


Assorted Tumblr Drabbles 2018

by mothermalfoy (slytherinxravenclaw)



Series: Assorted Tumblr Drabbles [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr drabbles, assorted drabbles, occasionally NSFW, occasionally angsty see chapter summary/notes for details, see summary/notes for details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 59
Words: 68,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinxravenclaw/pseuds/mothermalfoy
Summary: A series of short drabbles and random scenes based on asks from Tumblr users shared through my blog. Occasionally angsty/sad/fluffy/or naughty. See Notes/Summary for details.





	1. The Relentless Ex

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been debating whether or not I wanted to share these assorted Tumblr drabbles that I've been writing. I've been getting so much love over on Tumblr from people submitting ideas and thoughts and I wanted to share them here as well. If you'd like to send me love here yay or if you'd like to send me ideas via Tumblr hit me up at MotherMalfoy.Tumblr.com xo-Cissy  
> This first story was an ask for relentless Ginny, and sad insecure Draco. The asker was anon and really wanted to cry so forewarning this will be dark.

 

Post-war life had not been kind to Draco, despite his relationship with Harry, most people could scarcely see past his Dark Mark, and whenever Draco went out alone without Harry, it often ended in tears for the blond, or otherwise, being spit upon. Once, Draco had been dragged into Knockturn Alley by a group of angry teenagers who had lost family in the war, who had kicked the shit out of him. Harry had been furious, and he had never again allowed Draco to leave the house on his own. As it was, Draco had little interest in leaving the comfort of their home. Harry protected him, and though Draco rarely felt he deserved it, he couldn’t help but love Harry for it all the same.

“Why are you so good to me?” Draco asked as they lay in bed. Harry held tight to his boyfriend, running his fingers through Draco’s blond locks, Harry sighed. He hated seeing his love so insecure, he had never really recovered from sixth year, whatever had happened to him after living in that house with Voldemort had well and truly changed Draco forever. Harry knew some of it. The evidence of Draco’s scars was written in his flinching every time Harry pulled out a wand, or the coldness in Draco’s skin, and the occasional tremors that would flare up, a symptom of excessive Cruciatus attacks. Draco refused to talk about it. He was nothing if not a Malfoy first, and a Slytherin, and admitting when something was wrong, or he needed help, had never been his strong suit.

“Because I love you,” Harry promised, kissing the side of his boyfriend’s face, pulling Draco flush against him. “You  _know_ I love you don’t you?” Harry asked, looking seriously at his boyfriend then. Draco stared into Harry’s emerald green eyes, pleading with him to understand, to see how true his statements were. “No matter what, you know that I will always love you Draco Malfoy,” he smiled pressing a kiss to Draco’s lips, then down to the Dark Mark on Draco’s forearm. Draco shuddered.

“I know,” he said barely above a whisper. “I just can’t figure out why.”

“Because, you are incredible, and because you are the most amazing person I’ve ever known. And because you make me happy,” he said. Draco nodded, curling up into Harry’s chest, closing his eyes. No matter how long they’d been together, Draco would never let Harry see him cry, he hated the thought of his boyfriend knowing just how weak he had become. How badly damaged he was from the past. But with Harry, he felt secure, like everything would be okay if only he could hold on to Harry. Still, the voice of his father was never far behind.

“He’s too good for you Draco,” the voice would hiss. “He’ll leave you for someone better. You don’t deserve him. You should let him go before you ruin his life.”

Some days the voice was easier to ignore than others. Some days, Draco didn’t hear the hissing in his ear at all. Some days, Harry would find Draco locked in their closet, sobbing, rocking back and forth as he muttered to himself, “Not good enough, never good enough.” On these days, Draco would always apologize profusely to Harry, begging him not to leave. On more than one occasion Harry had joined his boyfriend in the closet, simply holding him, as Draco had refused to leave. Harry was used to the darkness by now, and one enclosed space was much like the next. If it meant calming his boyfriend down in any capacity, Harry was willing to do it. But he couldn’t help but wish he’d allow himself to visit a Mind Healer. Harry wouldn’t push the issue, however much Hermione had insisted, and however much it seemed  _all_ his friends insisted, Harry would fight them, arguing it was none of their goddamn business, and he’d handle his boyfriend without any help from anyone!

Draco’s insecurities were not helped by the fact that Ginny Weasley had been relentless in her quest to win back Harry’s heart. Just after he and Draco had begun dating, Ginny had sent Draco a howler calling him all manner of filth, insisting that he was  _not_ good enough for Harry, that Harry would realize this and leave him, and it would serve Draco right. She had ended the tirade claiming that Draco had killed her brother, and that had been the straw that broke the camel’s back for Harry.

“How dare you claim Draco was responsible for Fred’s death!” Harry bellowed, it was several days before Christmas, and Harry had come by to tell Molly that he didn’t think his being at the Burrow this year was a good idea.

“If he hadn’t let them into the school in the first place…”  Ginny yelled.

“Oh cut the shit, it would have happened one way or another, Draco had no choice!”

“I can’t believe you’d just side with him! After everything, he’s done! Don’t you even care how much he’s hurt this family?”

“That’s enough!” Molly Weasley bellowed. “That’s quite enough,” she exhaled a breath, shaking her head as she looked at her daughter and the man she’d considered a son since he was eleven. “This is our first Christmas since the war and I will not have you both besmirching it with your fighting!”

Harry nodded, “Right, I’m going. I’m not going to stay anywhere where someone I love isn’t wanted.” Molly touched his shoulder.

“Harry that isn’t what I mean. Draco’s as welcome here as anyone,” she said softly.

“No, he bloody well is not!” Ginny yelled.

“Ginny, enough!” Molly growled, rounding on her daughter. “Now I realize you’ve taken this breakup rather hard…”

“Breakup? Hardly! Mum, you can’t honestly believe Harry seriously loves him? He’s obviously under the Imperius or some sort of love potion!”

Harry was furious, his chest heaving as he glared across the room at Ginny then. “How dare you. You know  _nothing_ about Draco, and you know even less about what he’s been through,” and with that, Harry stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a swirl of green flames.

Ginny had not given up that easily, however. Shortly after Christmas, she had spun a tale to the Prophet claiming that Harry was under a love spell. His inability to be Imperiused was well known by then, but it did not mean he was incapable of falling for a love spell. Harry had Incendioed the paper the moment he’d found Draco sobbing in the closet, and he had immediately sent the Prophet an owl demanding they print a retraction or face legal action. The Prophet had printed the retraction but the damage was already done, howlers had begun flooding in to Draco, calling him a husband stealer, and many letters bemoaning poor Ginny Weasley who had been blindsided by Harry’s sudden and inexplicable falling out of love with her after the war.

The final straw had come during the five year anniversary of the war press conference when reporters had asked about a recent source that had informed them that Harry was on the verge of breaking up with Draco, and getting back together with Ginny at long last. Harry glared at the reporter, hoping Hermione would be strong enough to keep Draco standing as they stood in the wings watching Harry give his press conference.

“Let me be clear,” Harry said. “I have not now, nor do I ever have any intention of breaking up with Draco Malfoy. Furthermore, any rumors that I have any interest in getting back with Ms. Weasley are purely fabricated by Ms. Weasley herself.” Several reporters had shot up to question Harry then, Harry, however, was not interested in speaking to anyone further. Stepping away from the podium, Harry made his way towards the wings where Draco was sobbing into Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione looked helplessly at Harry. Harry shook his head, thanking her for her help as he held Draco in his arms.

“I’m so sorry Harry,” Draco sobbed.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Harry whispered, petting his hair in the hopes of calming him.

“I have… I’ve ruined your life,” he sobbed. “No one will ever accept us.”

Harry frowned, holding onto Draco tight. “I don’t care what anyone accepts,” he promised. “I love you for you,” he smiled as an idea finally hit him. “Draco,” he said, holding his boyfriend’s hands, as he got down on one knee. “Will you marry me? I’ll take an unbreakable vow that I’ll never leave you, Draco because I promise you, I have no desire to go anywhere. You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Draco was crying harder as he held onto Harry’s hands then.

“How could I possibly say no to that?” he asked, wiping his eyes. Harry smiled, kissing Draco’s cheek.

***

A week later, news of their impending marriage had been met with both shock and outrage, but Harry had merely vanished the letters before Draco had any chance to read them. As it was, in the days since Harry’s proposal and leading up to their Unbreakable Vow, Draco had been feeling considerably lighter, he wasn’t nearly back to his old self, more the pity Harry thought. But he was, more chipper.

“Harry, I’m off to make wedding plans with mother,” Draco said from the kitchen. Harry smiled, as he entered the kitchen to give his fiancé a goodbye kiss.

Draco blushed, holding onto Harry tight, “Have a good time and give your mother my love,” Harry said.

Draco smiled, “Such a sap,” he sighed happily making his way over to the floo, and grabbed a handful of shimmering powder. “Malfoy Manor,” he said, throwing the powder into the flames.

No sooner had Draco vanished in the flames, then there was a knock at the door. Harry sighed, making his way out of the kitchen and to the front door. Harry supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Ginny standing there.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“To congratulate you,” she said. “On your upcoming wedding. I suppose I  _really_ was wrong,” she said.

Harry snorted, “Why do I not believe you?”

Ginny frowned, “Listen, Harry, I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted. I’ve been an immature child, and I confess I was jealous. But you must admit, your relationship with Draco  _was_ sudden.”

Harry sighed, folding his arms across his chest. He knew what everyone thought, but no one understood, after rescuing Draco from the fiendfyre, everything had changed between them. Even in the midst of all the fighting and all of the curses going off all around them, Harry’s eyes had met Draco’s terrified grey and he found himself kissing the blond. It was a rare moment of tenderness during a terrible time, and the moment Harry had survived and destroyed Voldemort he’d found himself drawn to the blond once more, holding him tight as the world around them mourned.

“Maybe for you, and I’m sorry if I was unfair to you, but you have to understand, I  _love_ him. So if you’ve come here to really congratulate us, then thank you. If you’ve come here hoping to change my mind, then you’re much too late.”

Ginny snorted, “Mind if I have a cuppa? It’s chilly,” Harry was reluctant to let Ginny into their home. A small voice in the back of his mind told him it was a bad idea, but Ginny was Ron’s sister, and the tension between them had made things awkward in the Weasley household. Not the least because everyone had readily taken Harry’s side. 

Harry was careful to sit as far away from Ginny as he could, lest she get the wrong idea. Taking tea in the parlor was customary enough for guests you didn’t particularly want to let in your house any further than was necessary so that they were both sitting on the couch drinking tea was not in itself all that dangerous.

“You know, the most curious thing about all of this is I never had any idea you were gay,” she said. Harry glared.

“Ginny.”

“No, I just mean… I remember how jealous you were when I was with Dean, and you can’t tell me that was all in my head or some such rot. You were furious,” she said scooting closer. Harry sighed, placing his teacup and saucer on the table.

“That’s enough. Now I’ve been more than generous with you, but I’m warning you…” but Ginny didn’t seem to hear him. Without warning, she had climbed into Harry’s lap.

“Tell me you don’t miss this and I’ll leave,” she said. “We both know he has nothing on us,” she purred. Harry growled, about to shove her off, when the floo roared to life and Draco stepped out.

“Harry I forgot my…” Draco froze, staring at the scene before him, and Ginny grinned.

“Draco it’s not what it looks like,” Harry said, pushing Ginny to the floor. For a long moment, Draco didn’t say anything, staring at the witch on the floor, Harry could see tears clearly in Draco’s eyes, his jaw clenched tight as he glared at the redhead. Draco turned on his heel and apparated out of the room with a crack.  _Dammit!_ Harry thought.

Harry glared at Ginny. “You son of a bitch,” he growled pulling out his wand, “Get out before I remove you from my house by force,” Ginny merely smiled as she got to her feet.

“My work here is done,” she said. “See you around when you smarten up,” and with that Ginny vanished with a crack leaving Harry all alone in his home.

 

* * *

The wards of Malfoy Manor were blocked to Harry’s magical signature. He could force them, he was fairly certain, they were ancient and he could not be sure the consequences of such an action but given he had no other way to get ahold of Draco, he could hardly see what other choice he had.

Pansy had refused to return any of Harry’s firecalls and had completely ignored his owls, even Blaise, with whom Harry had thought he’d worked up quite a rapport had completely ignored his attempts at communication. Harry did not like the thought of having to call in his life debt from Narcissa, but he was fairly certain it was the only way.

“Hermione, how do I go about calling in a life debt?” he asked one afternoon at tea. Some days it felt like Hermione was the only friend he had left, remarkably she had kept in communication with Draco though she had refused to get into the middle of it.

“Oh Harry, what are you thinking?”

“Hermione it’s my only choice, Draco won’t hear me out otherwise,” Harry said.

Hermione gave her friend a sad look, “Harry. You realize if you call in his mother’s life debt, Draco will never forgive you.”

“How do you suggest I get ahold of him then?” Harry cried, feeling tears running down his face. “He won’t talk to me, he won’t return my firecalls, Hermione I feel like I’m going mad here.”

Hermione sighed, rubbing her friends back, “You have to give him time Harry. Draco is very proud,” Harry sighed. He knew Hermione was right of course, but the possibility of what it would mean if Draco never came back seemed almost too much to bear.

The days trickled by one into another, but for Harry, it seemed almost as though time had stood still without Draco there by his side. The house felt impossibly large and empty, and every day that went by Harry grew more and more resentful of Ginny for what she’d done. Not for the first time, Harry had found himself sobbing in the shower, wishing to have his boyfriend back.

Harry growled, punching the tile wall in his fury. Distantly Harry had heard a sickening crunch the moment his fist had connected with the wall, but he could only feel the dull roar of his own anger and frustration.  _What would a Slytherin do?_ The thought popped into his head unbidden, and Harry paused, staring at the shower wall, watching as tiny rivulets of water cascaded down. Harry had almost been a Slytherin, and he’d been dating one for five years now, surely  _something_ would have rubbed off. Clearly being the bigger person where Ginny was concerned had not helped, nor had it helped to ignore the situation entirely. No, the Slytherin thing to do would be to expose her to the world. To get her to admit she’d been responsible for everything, and to do so on tape. Harry smiled, turning off the shower water, and jumped out of the tub towards his study, dripping water everywhere he went. With a wave of his hand, Harry cast a wandless drying spell and summoned a piece of parchment to himself, and a quill and ink. His hand throbbed, and summoning his wand, Harry cast an Episky. 

The first letter was for Ginny. He would have to word it carefully, lest she give it to the press:

_I’ve been doing some thinking, and I’d like to talk. Meet me at the Leaky on Saturday at 6._

_-HP_

It seemed succinct enough Harry thought she would get the message without it being something even worthy of note to the press. He only hoped he was cunning enough to pull it off. Just in case, Harry sent off a secondary note to the Prophet. An anonymous tip from Harry’s assistant that Harry would be in America for the weekend on a very important assignment.

Sending off the two letters, Harry waited patiently for Ginny’s response. Less than an hour later, an owl returned with a simple note from Ginny.

_Glad to hear it. See you then._

_GW_

Harry grinned. There were few days when Harry regretted not becoming an Auror, none more so than now when he could really use the surveillance equipment, fortunately, Harry had a source within the Ministry, and he knew no one would ever turn him down if he really needed it.

That Saturday found Harry under a light glamour, just to be safe. Beneath his comfortable emerald green sweater, that Draco had bought him for his birthday last year, Harry had on the finest in Auror surveillance. A microphone that would pick up a pin-drop in most scenarios, and a small camera that disappeared perfectly into a necklace Harry had bought three years ago with Draco’s name on it. At five minutes to six, Ginny stepped into the Leaky, and Harry smiled, tapping his necklace to turn on the camera and mic before she saw him and made her way over. In the back parking lot, Neville Longbottom sat in an unmarked van, recording everything.

“Harry,” Ginny said as she sat down before him with a smile. Harry forced a smile on his face, though he could not say he was in the least bit happy to see the witch. “So, I got your letter,” she said smiling and leaning on her arm. “You’ve been thinking?”

Harry pulled out his wand to cast a privacy spell, “I thought we could use a little bit of privacy, don’t you?” he asked. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“Is it to be  _that_ sort of conversation?” she asked, taking a sip of water. Harry forced himself not to gag with a great deal of effort, she leaned towards him and Harry glared.

“Why did you do it?” he demanded.

“Do what?” Ginny asked with a pout.

“All of it!” Harry said, he could feel the rage burning just beneath the surface, but he would need to stay calm. The last thing he needed was for Ginny to attempt to leave, not that she could. George had happily supplied Harry with a new product, StrongerThanGlue paste that would adhere any person to a spot. “The Howler’s, the messages to the Prophet, all the lies! Why?”

Ginny snorted, folding her arms across his chest. “I thought you’d want to talk about us,” she said.

“This  _is_ about us,” Harry said. “If I’m to trust you I need to know  _why_ ,” it was a gamble, Harry knew, suggesting he had any interest in trusting her again especially on tape was dangerous as it could be used against him, but he needed to take the risk. He was a Gryffindor after all, and Harry knew, there was nothing he wouldn’t do any more for the man he loved. “So tell me. Why?”

“Because, he took everything from me,” she growled. “Why should  _he_ of all people get you? What has he ever done but treat you like shit? Bully you? Try to kill you on  _numerous_ occasions? He was working with the Dark Lord Harry, surely that meant something to you!” Harry sighed. “So I sent him a few howlers and wrote a few letters to the Prophet pretending to be concerned citizens worried for your safety. And maybe I did pay those guys to attack him in the alley, but Harry it was for your own good,” she said trying to take Harry’s hand. Harry merely stared at her.

“You did what?” he asked. It was as if someone had slipped her Veritiserum.

“I paid some guys who I knew had lost family to rough Draco up a little. I thought, he’ll be scared if people threaten him to leave you or else. It didn’t work, of course, I should have known your hero complex would just make you want to take care of him. Poor, broken Draco,” she sighed. Harry could feel fury bubbling up within him even stronger, and it took everything in his power to stop himself from screaming and sending hexes her way. “So pathetic, did you know he received death threats? Not my handiwork though I’d heard through the grapevine. Letters telling him the world was better off without him, they were right of course, but…” she shrugged. “Guess he couldn’t even do that right. He’d just go crying to you,” she sighed. “How pathetic.”

Harry could feel his jaw ache from how hard he was grinding his teeth, “Holy shite,” he heard Neville hiss in his ear.

“Why?” Harry demanded.

“For you of course. Harry, he was only going to drag you down with him. He was a worthless piece of shit, that whole family is. You were never going to realize how awful he was and leave him yourself, so I knew I had to take matters into my own hands. Attacking him was only playing you more into his grasp so I  thought. Let me apologize. Invite myself in, and if all went to plan, Draco would come back just in time to find me right in your lap. You can’t pretend you didn’t miss me,” she said with a wink.

Harry glared. “You disgust me,” he said. “I know you’re my best friend’s sister, but what you’ve done is unforgivable.” Harry could barely look at her, the very idea of all that she had done made him sick to his stomach. Ginny snorted.

“It hardly matters. Malfoy will never take you back, and once he sees us together in the Prophet tomorrow he’ll realize that his little fantasy world is well and truly over.” Harry glared, standing up then.

“If you ever come near me, or my boyfriend again, I will not hesitate to destroy you,” Harry growled, and with that, he disapparated on the spot, leaving Ginny stuck to her seat, surrounded by a NoticeMeNot charm and a silencing spell.

The Prophet got hold of Harry’s story first. Sprawled across the front page:  ** _WEASLEY CONFESSIONAL: how ex-lover of Harry Potter Ginevra Weasley tricked us all!_**

*******

Draco had barely left his bed in the three weeks since he’d left his and Harry’s house. He had barely eaten and barely slept, despite his mother and his house elf’s repeated attempts to make him. Draco was miserable, he hadn’t stopped crying in nearly all that time, and the voice that had tortured him for so long had become a nearly constant roar.

_I told you so._

_He’s better off with her._

_She can give him everything you can’t._

_You’re just a pathetic useless Death Eater._

_Nobody could ever love you._

_Least of all, Harry Potter._

_You deserve to die._

Draco sobbed, curled up in a ball in his bed when his mother burst into the room that morning.

“Draco,” she said breathlessly. “Draco get up now.”

Draco barely looked up at his mother, as she pulled open the curtains to his bedroom bringing in bright rays of sunlight. Draco groaned, burying his head under his duvet. Narcissa perched herself on the edge of his bed.

“Draco, you’ll want to see this,” she said, shoving the paper under the duvet. Draco groaned.

“I don’t want to see any paper,” he said shoving it back. Narcissa sighed.

“Fine, you leave me no choice,” pulling out her wand, Narcissa vanished his comforter leaving Draco without a place to hide. Draco glared at his mother. Narcissa merely shoved the paper in his face. Draco blinked, taking a moment to take in the front page. “It seems Ms. Weasley set up Harry, that day, and more than that she was the instigator behind so many of your attacks,” Narcissa said.

“So?” Draco demanded.

“So, darling. You  _know_ Harry loves you. You must give him a chance.”

Draco shook his head. “I’ll only end up ruining his life,” Draco said.

Narcissa frowned at her son, sitting on the edge of the bed, petting his hair as Draco buried his face in his arms, and sobbed. “Darling. You listen to me. Harry Potter is a good man, and he loves you. I’ve seen the two of you together for five years, and in that time Harry has only proven to me again and again that he would do anything for you. Don’t torture yourself, and him out of fear,” she said.  Draco sighed, turning to look up at his mother. Narcissa always knew what to say, and Draco loved her for it, even if he wasn’t sure if it was true.

*******

“Get out of this house,” Molly said, as she glared at her daughter.

“Mum,” Ginny argued.

“Don’t,” Molly shook her head. “I can’t even look at you. You  _paid_ people to have someone beat up? You sent threatening letters, you,” she paused. “You are not my daughter, Ginevra, I don’t know where I went wrong with you, but if you don’t get out of this house, I don’t know what I’ll do!” she yelled. Ginny turned on her heel, running out the door as Molly Weasley sighed. The war had already cost her one child, but Ginny had cost herself her family, all on her own.

*******

Harry had hoped the article would be enough. It was nearing Christmas, and two weeks since the article and still Draco had been silent. Harry was beginning to worry that Draco had missed it when the floo in the library roared to life. Harry steeled himself,  _please be Draco, please be Draco,_ he whispered as he stepped into the library. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he saw the platinum blond head of the love of his life standing there. Draco looked so nervous and unsure of himself. Harry held his breath, green eyes meeting grey.

“I missed you,” Draco said quietly.

“I missed you too,” Harry replied. “I’m so sorry, Draco if I had known…” Draco held up a hand, crossing the space between them and stood in front of Harry.

“I know there was no way for you to know,” he said.

“I won’t ever let anyone hurt you like that again,” Harry promised. “Please, tell me you’ll stay,” Harry’s heart thudded in his chest as he waited for Draco to speak.

“I’ll stay,” Draco said. Harry beamed, wrapping the other man in his arms, holding him tight.

“I’m so so sorry, Draco. I should never have let her into our house,” he said, sobbing into Draco’s shoulder. Draco nodded, holding onto Harry tight.

After a long moment of both of them crying, Draco finally pulled away slightly so he could look Harry in the eyes. “I don’t need you to take an Unbreakable Vow,” he said. “I trust you. I know you would never do anything to hurt me.”

“Never,” Harry promised. Draco smiled and hugged Harry again, and this time, Harry would never let him go again.


	2. Turtleneck Sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another one that could have been more smutty but ended up being more fluffy. Draco wears a turtleneck because Harry gets carried away. Hickies abound. This one is like soft core smut.

“Harry,” Draco gasped, arching into the raven-haired man as he latched onto the pale expanse of Draco’s throat. Of all of the things they did together,  _this_ was by far Draco’s favorite. Harry losing all semblance of control as he mauled Draco’s neck, sucking and licking and dragging his tongue over every square inch he could reach was enough to make Draco whimper and squirm. Harry  _always_ knew how to drive Draco into a frenzy of panting moans and heated sobs, begging Harry for  _more, please._ If Draco didn’t know any better he would have thought Harry was part vampire. He was certain he wouldn’t have cared if he was, so long as Harry never stopped claiming him every chance he got.

Harry growled against his skin, “Mine,” his hands dropping to squeeze Draco’s arse as he pulled him closer. It was embarrassing to admit but Draco knew no other word in the English language could make him closer to coming than hearing Harry growl  _mine,_ in his ear.  

“Oh god, Harry please,” Draco whined, Harry slotted his knee in between Draco’s legs, lifting him up slightly so Draco had no choice but to wrap his leg around Harry’s waist, riding his thigh as Harry continued his ministrations. Draco no longer cared where they were or who might catch them, this was  _heaven_ and Draco wasn’t going anywhere. Voldemort himself couldn’t have pulled Harry away then, Draco’s flesh was an Imperius and Harry was under his spell.

When at last Harry pulled away, for they had never gone much further than snogging in corridors, Harry was quite insistent that they wait and that their first time together should be special, Draco whined. “Gods your so beautiful,” Harry whispered, kissing the bruise he’d created for good measure. Draco whimpered. “Want me to walk you back to the dungeons?”

Draco couldn’t help but smile at Harry’s sweetness. Harry always offered to walk Draco back to the dungeons. It had started as a way to help him after some nasty attacks at the start of their eighth year, but the moment word had spread that Draco and Harry were dating,  _damn Pansy and her big mouth,_ Draco found no one dared lay a hand on him. The few who’d been foolish enough to try had found the golden boy glaring down on them, his wand at the ready. No one wanted to be on the wrong end of the wand that took down Voldemort. “Come on sunshine,” Harry said taking Draco’s hand, walking him down to the Slytherin dungeons. Draco would never admit it but he  _loved_ the nickname. Frankly, he was certain Harry could have called him anything and he would love it, but something about Harry calling him sunshine, well, it made him want to crawl into Harry’s lap then and there and ride him into tomorrow.

“I’d love for you to come to my room sometime,” Draco purred. “It’s private and I’m a master at silencing charms, no one would ever hear me scream.” Harry let out what sounded like a choked sob at that.

“Draco, please. It’s not that I don’t want you, but I want it to be special, romantic, memorable.”

Draco couldn’t help but love Harry even more for that. “I know, but I think it will be special because it’s us you know?” Harry smiled, as they reached the outside of the Slytherin dorms, pinning Draco up against the wall, and pressed his lips to Draco’s in a claiming kiss that made Draco want to cry, and ride Harry’s thigh all over again.

“Tease,” Draco hissed against his lips.

“What can I say I find you irresistible, and delicious,” Harry replied. Draco purred.

“Harry,” he whined.

Harry grinned, “You know your little needy whines drive me wild,” he whispered. Draco pouted. “I’ll be dreaming about you,” he said pulling away at last. Draco snorted.

“Prat.”

“You love me.”

Draco huffed, “I claim no such thing,” he said through a smile. Harry laughed, as he forced himself to make his way back up to his own common room, lest Filch or a prefect catch him out and ask for an autograph.

“Good night sunshine,” Harry said and with that, he was gone. Draco sighed, entering his common room, and stalking into his bedroom to find Pansy and Blaise already waiting on his bed. Pansy’s eyes widened as she took in the state of Draco’s throat.

“Good lord he’s mauled you,” she said moving in closer with glee. Blaise let out a whistle. Draco pushed past his friends making his way over to the full-length mirror to study Harry’s handiwork. Sure enough, several large bruises surrounded his throat like a purple necklace. Draco shuddered, trailing his fingers across the bruises, sending goosebumps rising across his flesh.

“Get out, both of you,” Draco said.

“What did we do?” Blaise asked with a huff.

“I want a wank you nosy prats! Now out, out, out,” he said pushing them towards the door, sending a hard locking spell at it once they were out. Draco sighed, making his way towards his bed, stripping off his robes as he went, unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his trousers when there was a knock on his door. Draco wanted to scream.

“Pansy I swear to god,” Draco growled as he opened the door to find, not Pansy standing there, “Harry what are you doing here?” he asked. Draco tried not to blush, he was just in his pants now with only his button up covering him and Harry was staring.

“I got halfway back to the common room and I thought why am I torturing myself like this?” Draco grinned, and before he knew what was happening Harry had lifted him up and shoved him against the wall, pressing his lips back onto the spot on Draco’s throat dragging a moan from the blond, as he wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.

“Wait, Harry the silencing spell,” he whined.

“Don’t care, let them hear,” Harry growled.

Draco whined, “Oh fuck.”

The following morning Draco awoke to find  _everything_ was sore, in the most delicious way possible. Harry still had a possessive arm wrapped around Draco’s naked waist and it was all he could do not to shudder as he looked around his room, it looked like an explosion of clothes, torn off in the heat of passion. Draco shuddered at the memory, longing for a repeat performance. At that exact moment, his stomach gave a loud growl. Draco sighed, never wanting to move away from Harry.

“Harry,” he said softly. Harry groaned in his sleep, burying his face in Draco’s neck. Draco gasped, Harry’s hair tickling over the bruises on his throat. “Wake up love, it’s time for breakfast,” he said. Harry’s eyes opened slowly as he took in his boyfriend, looking as bright and beautiful as ever.

“So it wasn’t just a wonderful dream then?” Harry asked with a grin.

Draco laughed. “Nope,” Harry sighed happily and kissed Draco’s chest. “Come on, I’m famished,” he said getting to his feet. Harry sat up in bed, staring at Draco’s arse as he grabbed his boxers from the floor, pulling them up before he looked around his closet for a pair of trousers and his black turtleneck. Harry found he loved watching Draco dress, almost as much as seeing him undress. Draco was as always, a sight to behold. Harry smiled, watching Draco disappear beneath the black turtleneck, that was no doubt made of cashmere or some other ridiculously expensive fabric.  “Get dressed, come on,” Draco said smiling at his boyfriend. Harry pulled himself out of Draco’s bed and pulled on his clothes from the night before.

The two walked, hand-in-hand to the Great Hall, “Why are you wearing a turtleneck?” Harry asked once they’d sat down at the Slytherin table. No one questioned where either of them sat these days.

“Because you’ve mauled my neck and I don’t want to spell them off, nor do I want to answer particularly stupid questions,” he said with a smirk. Harry laughed.

“Touche.”


	3. Dudley's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is contacted by Dudley about his magical daughter, Draco is furious and generally ready to hex the bollocks of anyone who dared hurt his husband. This is slightly angsty because Harry still has PTSD from his childhood. But gotta love badass Draco threatening the Dursley's.

The last person Harry had ever expected to receive a letter from was his cousin Dudley Dursley. Harry wasn’t even sure how Dudley had  _found_ him to send him the letter in the first place, yet here it was. By Royal Post and everything.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you might be surprised to hear from me after everything, first I wanted to start off this letter by saying I’m sorry for how I treated you growing up. I was a spoiled brat and a bully. I know I can’t change the things that happened to you in this house, sometimes it still makes me sick when I walk past that cupboard under the stairs._

_I’m writing you however because you are my cousin and my daughter Lailah has started showing signs of magic. She’s five, and I’m unimaginably proud of her abilities. My parents are of course, furious, but they love their granddaughter so they’re dealing with it. I was hoping that perhaps you could help me figure out what to do here._

_\- Sincerely,_

_Dudley Dursley_

Draco snorted after Harry had handed them the letter and he’d read over it. “They can start by not locking her in a bloody cupboard for one thing,” he said. “You can’t  _honestly_ be considering this,” Draco looked over at his husband. Harry was sipping coffee as he stood by the window staring out at their view of Scotland. They had moved as far away from London, and Harry’s adoring public as they could manage after the war. Far away from Draco’s parents and the expectations in Wiltshire, and far away from the Ministry, back to the only place that had ever made either of them feel safe. Hogwarts. Draco had taken up a position as the Potions Master while Harry had taken over the now no longer cursed role of Defense Against the Dark Arts, together they’d moved into a comfortable cottage on the other side of the Black Lake.

“We have to,” Harry said. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“The  _right_ thing to do would be to call child welfare and let them know there’s a young girl trapped in a cupboard in Surrey!”

“She’s not in a cupboard,” Harry said.

Draco sighed. He  _loved_ his husband dearly. Harry’s kind heart never failed to warm Draco’s own chilly little heart. He was nothing if not a Gryffindor through and through. Determined to always do what was right, regardless of the cost. It was admirable, and Draco could admit it often made him want to be a better man himself. But this wasn’t just the right thing, this was Gryffindor foolishness. “Honey you know I admire your ability to see the best in people, even when they don’t deserve it. But you can’t  _honestly_ think they’ve changed.”

“Maybe not my aunt and uncle, but Dudley? I think it’s possible,” Harry said as he made his way back over to the kitchen table and sat down. “Dudley never would have written that letter if he hadn’t. He’s grown up.”

Draco smiled at his husband then, “Very well. But know this, if your aunt and uncle so much as say one word about you or magic, or our lifestyle I will send them a sneer that will summon a winter that will last a thousand years,” Draco said.

Harry chuckled, “That’s all I could ever ask for love,” he said.

Draco shook his head. Harry was  _much_ too good for this world, he thought.

A week later, found Draco and Harry standing on the stoop of Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry’s heart raced in his chest, as he held onto Draco’s hand. “We don’t have to do this love,” Draco assured him not for the first time. Harry smiled.

“I’ll be okay,” he promised, his hand hovering above the door to knock. Draco squeezed his other hand.

“I’ll be right here my love, and I’ll happily hex the bollocks off of anyone you want.”

Harry laughed, “Thank you that helps,” he said. Draco grinned and kissed Harry’s hand still gripped in his own and Harry knocked. A moment later, the door opened and Dudley Dursley stood before them. He was as portly as ever, looking more like his father, though considerably kinder. Dudley smiled at Harry.

“You came,” he said pulling his cousin in for a hug. Harry smiled, hugging his cousin back. Draco merely waited, standing off to the side, as he let them catch up. Dudley’s eyes moved over to Draco. “Who’s this you brought with you?” Dudley asked. Harry swallowed, and Draco smiled, holding out his hand to Dudley.

“Draco Malfoy-Potter. His husband,” Draco said, daring the other man to say anything. Draco was just itching to pull out his wand.

Dudley merely smiled at him, “Pleasure to meet you, Drake. I’m Harry’s cousin Dudley,” he said shaking Draco’s hand. Draco’s eyes lowered.

“Draco, if you please. It’s an old family name.” Dudley merely nodded.

“Well come in, please, make yourself at home,” he said stepping aside for them, “Mom and dad are in the kitchen.” Harry tensed, and Draco placed his hand on his husband’s lower back, whispering to him.

“Shall I hex them now or wait to see if they offer us tea?” 

Harry smiled, allowing himself to look around the house once more. Not much had changed in it in the last decade or so, not that he’d expected it to. The Dursley’s were nothing if not averse to change. And then he saw it, the small cupboard under the stairs that had been his home for so many years. Harry was shaking unable to tear himself away. It was so much smaller than he remembered it being. Harry could feel tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. Draco moved in front of him, holding his face with his hands.

“Harry, I want you to listen to me okay,” he said so only he and Harry could hear. “Look at me,” Harry turned to stare into the loving grey eyes of his husband.  _Draco,_ he thought happily. Draco leaned in and kissed Harry’s forehead, pouring all of the calming magic he could muster into the kiss.

Harry sighed, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist.

“Oi, I’ll not have you traipsing in here and snogging in my house,” Uncle Vernon shouted. Harry groaned before he knew what was happening, Draco had whipped around, his wand pointed directly at Uncle Vernon’s throat.

“Say one more word, and you’ll not live to finish that sentence.”

“How dare you threaten me in my own home!” Uncle Vernon bellowed, red-faced.

Draco smirked, rolling up his sleeve, as he walked straight up to the other man, shoving his Dark Mark in Uncle Vernon’s face. “Do you know what this is?” he growled. “It’s the mark of Lord Voldemort’s followers. I trust you know how he felt about Muggles. Well hear this, you put my husband through  _hell_ throughout his entire childhood, and I will not  _hesitate_ to rip you limb from limb, and I promise you, not a person in our world would convict me.” Uncle Vernon looked dumbstruck. Harry tried not to chuckle, making his way towards his husband then, knowing he’d better stop this before Draco made good on his promise. Draco always  _had_ been very protective where Harry was concerned, and Harry knew he’d been itching for a reason to curse his aunt and uncle. As it was, Dudley was looking decidedly terrified himself and Harry pulled Draco away from the frightened looking Dursley’s.

“He doesn’t mean it,” Harry whispered to Dudley.

“You married a follower of the bloke who was trying to kill you?” Dudley asked, incredulous.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Harry said.

“I’m not sure this was such a good idea. Nothing personal cuz, but I don’t want some dark wizard giving my daughter the wrong ideas.”

Harry shook his head. “Draco’s not a dark wizard. He’s just fiercely protective. He’s like a blond German Shepherd.” Draco was still glaring Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who had come out of the kitchen at the sound of all the shouting. “He really is lovely once you get to know him but he’s not a fan of your parents.”

Dudley nodded, “Yeah I can understand that,” he sighed.

“Where’s Lailah?” Harry asked.

“Upstairs, in the second bedroom,” he said. “I’ll go get her,” Dudley made his way up the stairs and Harry turned to his husband, who was twirling his wand in front of his aunt and uncle, daring them to speak up. Neither one did.

“Put that away,” Harry hissed in his ear. Draco sighed, slipping his wand into his back pocket. A moment later, Dudley appeared with his daughter on his hip. She had sandy blond hair like him, though she was decidedly much smaller than he’d been at that age. Harry smiled as the girl nervously hid her face in her father’s shoulder. Harry frowned.

“She’s a little nervous around new people,” Dudley said. Harry nodded, as Draco moved around to smile at the girl.

“Hello little lady,” he said, offering her a low bow. “Are you Ms. Lailah?” the little girl smiled, nodding at Draco. Draco took her hand and kissed it. “I’m Draco, your cousin’s husband. We understand you have been having weird stuff happen is that right?” Lailah nodded, and Draco smiled.

“Would you care to tell us about it?” he asked.

Lailah looked at her father, who nodded and put her down. Draco instantly moved to the floor so they were roughly the same height and the two began an animated conversation.

“Would you like some tea?” Dudley asked. Harry smiled.

“I’d love it,” he said. Dudley nodded, giving one last look to Draco and his daughter. Draco pulled out his wand then, to make one of her stuffed animals come to life and dance around. Lailah giggled excitedly. Harry couldn’t help but smile watching Draco interact with the girl, he had always wanted children, and seeing Draco interact with one only made that desire grow stronger. Sighing wistfully, Harry took a seat beside Draco on the floor.

The Dursley’s all watched the scene from the hall between the kitchen and living room. Whatever they had expected, the Harry Potter who had greeted them at the door was not it.

“He looks good,” Dudley said. “No thanks to you,” he hissed at his parents. “And he’s happy. I think Aunt Lily would be very proud of how he turned out.” Petunia Dursley stared at her son then, as Dudley approached Harry, Draco, and his daughter with tea and biscuits. 


	4. Drarry Interpreter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is Minister Harry's Interpreter, sometimes what he says is not interpretable. NSFW/Smut based on the prompt by Dracogotgame on Tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah with the shit storm that's hit Tumblr I figured I'd better get back to sharing here.

The first time Draco Malfoy was tasked with aiding the Minister for Magic during a meeting with the Russian Premier for Magic, Draco was shocked. “Me sir?” Draco said when his boss and Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation Nathaniel Dippet had called him in to give him the good news.

“You’re our best translator,” Dippet replied. “And the Minister has asked for you personally.”

Draco somehow doubted this fact, after all, he and the new Minister had not exactly been close over the years, but then, who was he to deny the boy, strike that, man who lived twice. They were nearly thirty after all.

The Minister had proved nothing if not entertaining throughout the meeting, as Draco translated for him, it had been going well too until Harry had become thoroughly annoyed by the Russian Premier’s insistence that the Quidditch World Cup did  _not_ need extra Auror security from the Ministry of Magic as his own would suffice.

“Malfoy, kindly ask the Premier if he would go bugger himself with a rusty spoon?” Harry said so that only Draco could hear him. Draco’s eyes widened, and he swallowed as he considered how to translate that into a considerably more  _pleasant,_ and less potentially catastrophic phrasing. He eventually settled on,  _The Minister would like to know why we can’t split the difference. Your Aurors and ours? One can never have too much security._

The Russian Premier raised an eyebrow and tried to argue, though Draco had remained steadfast and eventually the concession was agreed upon.

“That was good work in there,” Harry said once the meeting had ended. Draco blushed.

“Th—thank you, Minister.”

“I’ll be calling upon you again, the next time I need a translator,” Harry said kissing the back of Draco’s hand. Draco had smiled, blushing furiously somewhat disbelieving as he and the Minister parted ways.

True to his word, however, Harry had called upon him again, less than a week later to join him in meeting with the Italian President, regarding updates to their floo network.

“Here we go again,” Harry said, as he sat down beside Draco and the meeting began. Draco translated quickly and efficiently though there were numerous things Draco found that Harry said that simply could not be translated. “Why exactly does Madame Isadora think the Ministry should help her with floo updates?” Harry demanded. Draco sighed as the President looked expectantly at him.  _The Prime Minister wishes to know how exactly it is we are to help? The British Wizarding Economy is stretched thin as it is._

It wasn’t as if Harry didn’t  _know_ that Draco wasn’t translating most of his snark. The delegates in question never quite seemed to have the reaction he would have expected had Draco translated his words verbatim and though it was not his  _job_ to edit the Minister for Magic, Harry found it was far better they avoid an international incident, and so he knew better than to question what exactly it was Draco was translating.

By the end of the meeting, Harry had smiled at him again, that same heart-stopping smile, and Draco had found himself blushing furiously. He would never admit that he found the Minister’s snark entertaining. Particularly not when he’d made a comment about needing a bandage from his ear bleeding from the ungodly sound of that woman’s voice. The fact that Potter seemed to have no respect for his position or the authority with which he’d been bestowed was Draco refused to admit a bit of a turn on for him, made all the worse the more they interacted.

It didn’t escape Draco’s notice that the Minister had ensured that he worked with no other translator over the last six months, even going so far as to reschedule a meeting with the Grecian Minister when Draco had come down with a cold.

Their exchanges were mostly tame, though occasionally flirtatious with more than one time Harry placing a kiss to Draco’s hand after the meeting was over. But Draco had convinced himself that it was purely political. Harry had no interest in him, he told himself. And then it happened, during a meeting with the French President for Magic, Beaumont that everything had changed. Harry had been his usual charming self, save for his snark saved only for Draco when “God I’m so fucking bored. Call for a recess to this meeting,” he complained.

“Shall I tell them why?”

Harry’s eyes flashed dangerously, “So I can bend you over my desk and rim that tight little arse of yours.”

Draco’s eyes widened, whatever he had expected from the Minister that response was not it. Surely he was kidding, so Draco merely rolled his eyes.

“Rimming doesn’t translate well,” he lied.

“Too bad, gods, I could listen to you speak French forever. I’m so bloody hard.” It was all Draco could do not to moan as he tried to listen to whatever it was the President was currently saying to him.

“He,” Draco cleared his throat. “I think he said something about…”  _Bugger._ Draco could hardly concentrate.

“Fuck him. Mmm better yet, do you think he’d be delighted or appalled if I just took you up against that wall behind us? My money’s on delighted, he looks like a closet voyeur.”

“The one bloody French word you know,” Draco snorted. Harry grinned.

“I’m not kidding Malfoy,” he said discreetly taking Draco’s hand to place it in his lap, so Draco could feel his hard-on through his trousers.

“Merde!” Draco said breathlessly, he could feel Harry’s cock twitch at the word, as he leaned in continuing to whisper.

“You have such a pretty mouth you know that? I’ve been fantasizing forever about having it wrapped around my cock.”

“Please H—Harry,” he whispered. “It’s quite unprofessional.”

“Tell me you want me to stop and I will,” Draco couldn’t because he didn’t.  _Gods did he never want Harry to stop._

“Only stop if you have no intention of following through,” Draco hissed. Harry grinned.

“Oh, I have  _every_ intention of following through. Call off the meeting and you can sit in my lap while I fuck you. Better yet it might make the meeting more interesting if you sat in my lap anyway,” he purred.

Draco shuddered.  _P-perhaps we should continue this meeting another time, the Minister isn’t feeling well,_ he said. “Cough.”

“What?”

“Cough dammit!” Draco hissed. Harry faked a cough and President Beaumont nodded. Saying something that Draco definitely missed because Harry had once more started whispering to him.

“Damn baby I have to say it’s kind of hot when you get all demanding. I do so love a bossy bottom.”

Draco had only caught the last of the President’s words.  _Flushed yourself, Monsieur._ Draco blushed furiously.

“I wonder if anyone would notice if I just started fingering you right here,” Harry growled against his ear.

“I’m getting them to leave,” Draco whispered.

“Not sure I can wait that long,” Harry growled. Draco shuddered, as the French President stood as did Harry, shaking hands and saying their goodbyes. Harry shut the door the second everyone left and hit it with a wandless locking and silencing spell before he rounded on Draco with a grin. “I thought they’d never leave,” Harry said stalking over to him. Draco gasped as Harry pulled him up and pressed their lips together.

“Fuck,” Draco hissed.

“Mmm, keep speaking French baby,” Harry growled, as he slid his hand into the back of Draco’s trousers, palming his arse.  _Fuck me, Harry please,_ Draco said breathlessly. “Fuck so hot,” Harry growled, sucking on his neck as he slipped a finger inside Draco then. Draco whined arching off the desk. Gods his body felt as though it were on fire everywhere Harry touched. It was exhilarating and the most reckless thing Draco had ever done, and yet, as Harry spun him around and dragged his trousers down around his ankles, and dropped to his knees, to rim him into utter incoherence Draco found, he couldn’t bloody care  _how_ reckless sleeping with his boss was.

 

 


	5. Harry's Surprise Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco plans a surprise party for his boyfriend, but their friends are about to get more of one.

 

Draco Malfoy did not particularly like surprise parties, being a Slytherin, it was not advantageous to be snuck up on, but upon learning that his boyfriend of six short months had never really celebrated a proper birthday, Draco had decided that he was going to throw Harry Potter the best bloody surprise party anyone had ever thrown. Now the trick would be to invite all of Potter’s friends to the party without alerting them to their relationship.

At three in the morning, Draco snuck out of bed and grabbed Harry’s phone off the nightstand and pressed the small circle in the bottom center of the screen as he’d seen Harry do a million times before.

_Fingerprint not recognized,_ the phone said. Draco growled. A keyboard appeared and Draco stared at the thing considering what Harry would have made his password.   _ilovedracomalfoy_ he tried first. The phone screen shook, apparently it was not correct.  _gryffindorrules._ Nope. Draco took a breath trying to think about all the things that his boyfriend loved, and did on a regular basis then tried again,  _chudleycannons._ The phone unlocked and Draco chuckled to himself, as he found the contacts app and opened it. Scrolling down through his list of contacts, he paused as he took in his own contact,  _Babylove_ surrounded by two hearts and a kiss emoji. Draco might have gagged had he not found it so disgustingly adorable. Lower down he found Hermione Grangers number, under  _The Brightest Witch of Her Age_  and Ronald’s number under  _Best Mate_. He wrote the two numbers down and stuck them in his own phone under  _Granger_ , and  _Weasley is our King._  He was still rather proud of that one, and it had even been his ringtone for a time. Locking Harry’s phone back and replacing it on the charger, Draco snuck back into bed and opted to call the pair the second Harry left for work in the morning.

The next morning found Harry up bright and early, none the wiser of his boyfriend’s sneaking into his phone as Harry got ready for another day in the Auror department, he kissed his boyfriend’s temple, who pretended to be still asleep as he buried his face into the pillow at Harry’s touch, then flooed to the Ministry with a loud roar of the fireplace.

Draco sat bolt upright in their bed, and pulled out his cellphone, quickly dialing Granger’s number, then clicking over to add Weasley’s call to their call.

“Hermione Granger,” came the happy voice of the young woman.

“Granger, it’s Malfoy, don’t hang up please,” he said. The phone rang in the background.

“Malfoy what…”

“Hullo?” came Ron’s sleepy reply.

“Ronald?” Hermione asked.

“‘Mione? Why you calling at six in the morning?”

“She didn’t, I did,” Draco replied.

“Bloody hell, who’s that?”

“Malfoy,” Hermione replied.

“What’s he want?” Ron asked. Draco sighed.

“Please both of you, give me a second!” he snapped. The two voices on the other end went silent. “Thank you. Now then, as you may know, Potter and I work together…”

“More like he’s your boss,” Ron said with a snort.

“Quite. But given that it’s going to be his birthday in a few weeks, and given that he does not typically  _celebrate_ such events, I thought it would be nice to throw him a surprise party with all of his friends, and I’ve opted to enlist you two to help me.”

“Oh Draco, that’s so sweet,” Hermione said.

“Why would you want to do that?” Ron asked, suspicious. Draco snorted, the man could have been a Slytherin for his lack of trust.

“It’s really important I be able to do this for Potter,” Draco said. “He’s not to know. I want it to be a surprise. We’ll have it at the manor…”

“Not bloody likely!” Ron snapped.

“Honestly Ronald!” Hermione chastised.

“You expect me to just waltz into the dark lord’s lair and offer myself up?”

“In case you missed it,” Draco snapped, “he’s been dead for the better part of five years now! I merely want to give my fr–boss a good birthday,” Draco said carefully.

Hermione smiled, “Well I would be happy to help, Draco.”

“Thank you Granger.”  A loud sigh echoed from Ron’s end of the line.

“Fine. Bloody fine, but if you do anything to reck this Malfoy, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Duly noted,” Draco said. The three agreed to meet at the Three Broomsticks that Friday to plan the details of Harry’s birthday, and come up with the official guest list. Draco was positively giddy with excitement.  _Now to figure out what to get the prat who has everything,_ Draco thought with a smirk. He’d have to go into Diagon Alley today and look through some things. He vaguely remembered Harry having his eye on the newest Firebolt model.

On Friday, Draco awoke to the worst nausea he’d ever experienced in his life,  he had barely made it out of bed and to the toilet before the entire contents of his stomach had unloaded themselves into the toilet, with Draco feeling like death warmed over.

“Baby are you alright?” Harry asked, as Draco groaned, his stomach giving a particularly bad lurch. He felt as though he’d been slipped a puking pastel, only his insides were more twisted up.

“Think… food poisoning,” Draco said, before he vomited again.

“I’m taking you to St. Mungos,” Harry said, lifting Draco into his arms. The blond groaned, taking his head into Harry’s chest.

“What about work?” he asked. Harry stared down at his paler than usual boyfriend, and shook his head.

“They can shove it, my boyfriend is sick,”

“My hero,” Draco said, his stomach giving an awful lurch again as Harry carried him to the fireplace.

They had barely made it across the threshold into St. Mungo’s emergency centre when Draco vomited hard over Harry’s arms and onto his feet. “Sorry,” he said. Harry shook his head, still carrying him towards the nurse’s station. In seconds several healers surround them and picked Draco out of Harry’s arms, cleaning up the sick as they took him into a private room to examine him. Harry merely stood in the hall, worriedly as a nurse began to ask him questions about the other man’s condition.

Harry answered as best he could, and none of the medical staff dared ask, why the boy who lived, had carrying a former death eater in his arms like that.

An hour later, Draco was released with a Calming Draught, and several anti-nausea potions, “They say they’ll know more in a few weeks,” Draco said, feeling considerably better as Harry took them home. “You can go to work now, I’ll be fine, promise,” Draco said as Harry tucked him into bed.

“Absolutely not,” Harry said, tucking his boyfriend in and kissed his head. “Kingsley can be without me for a whole twenty-four hours,” Harry said.

“Honey I’m not even sure they’d know how to be without you for a whole twenty-four minutes.”

Harry snorted, “What good is being the youngest head Auror in history if I can’t take a day off once in a while to take care of my sick boyfriend.”

“Harry, it’s just food poisoning. The doctors just wanted to make sure,” he said. Harry wasn’t convinced, he stayed firmly rooted to the spot beside his boyfriend. “Harry,” Draco said. The brunette folded his arms across his chest, in a manner that told him Draco would not be shaking the other man off any time soon. Draco sighed. “Well at least get into bed then, you great prat!” he hissed. Harry chuckled and got into bed beside his boyfriend.

Draco grabbed his phone and shot off a text to Hermione:

_Raincheck on meeting tonight, feeling ill. Sorry. - DM_

A few minutes later his phone buzzed with the new text.

_Sure, feel better Draco. Drink plenty of water. HG_

Draco laughed to himself, thank god Granger understood. Replacing his phone back on the bedside table, Draco curled up against his boyfriend’s side, burying his head in the brunette’s chest and wrapping his arm around his waist.

“Comfortable?” Harry asked as Draco nuzzled his stomach with his cheek.

“Mhmm,” Draco said happily. His eyelids felt heavy as sleep started to overtake him. Harry chuckled, carding his fingers through the blond’s hair, within moments, Draco had fallen fast asleep.

The next day found Draco feeling considerably better, thanks in part to the anti-nausea potions that seemed to be keeping the worst of his stomach pains at bay. He’d managed to convince Granger and Weasley to meet him later in the afternoon, at the Leaky.

“I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a preliminary guest list that I figured you could edit as you saw fit, seeing as it’s your house,” Hermione said, as she handed over the parchment. Draco nodded, as he continued to shovel shepherds pie into his mouth. Ron watched the blond, mouth agape. He had never seen the man so ravenous before. In all his time of knowing the blond, watching him shovel food into his mouth with little decorum and even less breath was new. The shepherds pie was followed by fish and chips, several helpings of fudge, and two full glasses of Butterbeer.

“You got a tapeworm or something Malfoy?” Ron asked, as he witnessed the blond polish off the fish and chips.

“Bloody rich coming from you,” Draco replied, snarkily. Hermione chuckled in spite of herself.

“He’s got a point,” Hermione said as she looked over at her boyfriend.

“Oi, who’s side are you on?” Ron demanded. Draco rolled his eyes as he continued looking over the guest list, resisting the very un-Malfoy urge to lick his fingers.

“This all looks great,” he said. “I figured it should be at the Manor, I’ll take him straight from work.”

“Won’t he be suspicious you trying to bring him to your house?” Ron asked. Draco sighed. He hadn’t considered how to explain that bit to Potter’s friends yet. The truth was, they had never officially gone to Malfoy Manor as of yet, but Harry had been starting to have the  _meet the family_ conversation and Draco supposed he could just claim that his parents had wanted to have dinner with him that day and so he would be inviting Harry along.

“I’ll worry about that,” Draco said flatly, as he bit into his first helping of fudge. “Just make sure you get your whole redheaded clan to the manor by six-fifteen got it!”

Ron lowered his eyes, but nodded all the same. By the end of Draco’s rather expensive and nauseating lunch, Hermione had been left with the suspicion that something was going on more than what Draco was leading on.

The floo-call about Draco’s condition came exactly three days before Harry’s surprise party. Draco had spent the night previous, devouring chicken curry like it was going out of style, and the better part of the morning vomiting into the toilet.

“I hate to say I told you so,” Harry said as he leaned against the doorjamb of their bathroom.

“Then bloody don’t,” Draco growled as he pulled his head out of the loo and made his way to the sink to wash out his mouth, when he heard the tell-tale sound of a beak on glass. Draco’s eyes widened, he sprinted across the room toward the bedroom window where the St. Mungo’s owl stood on the sill. Draco opened it and took the parchment from the awaiting owl, while Harry grabbed some owl pellets for it.

Draco quickly broke the St. Mungo’s seal from the parchment and read over the doctors diagnosis:

_Draco L. Malfoy, pregnant 13 weeks._

Draco’s eyes widened,  _bloody hell!_ He thought as he crumpled the paper in his hands. Harry looked on nervously.

“Well?” he said.

Draco stared at his boyfriend, his eyes wide as he considered what to say, so instead, Draco handed Harry the parchment, as he climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over his head.

“Bloody hell,” Harry said. “Is this… how… did this happen?” he asked. Draco didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond. What was there to say? His brain was fluctuating between  _oh my god,_ and  _dear Salazar let a black hole just devour me now._ Instead what he said was, “You bloody know how.”

Draco felt the bed dip on Harry’s side, and a moment later the covers were lifted from his head. Harry was beaming over at him, as tears streamed down Draco’s face.

“Oh no… no… you don’t…” Harry frowned. “You didn’t want to have children with me did you?”

Draco gave the man a hard look, “Are you nuts? Of course I bloody want children with you, you colossal prat! But I thought maybe we should wait a bloody moment, enjoy our alone time. You’re working constantly and us not even being married!”

“So let’s get married,” Harry said. Draco snorted. “I mean it. You’re thirteen weeks, that’s two and a half months, which means the baby will be born in February. We’ll get married in December, it’ll be perfect.”

“Potter if you think this is a proper proposal, you’ve lost your bloody mind.”

“Well no, obviously I’ll have to ask your father’s permission. But we’re having dinner with them on Tuesday, so I think it’ll be brilliant,” Harry said with a smile. Draco stared at his boyfriend. “Oh Dray… this is the best birthday gift you could have ever given me,” he said hugging his boyfriend tight. Draco sighed into Harry’s arms.

Three days later found Harry and Draco flooing into the Manor’s drawing room. Harry smiled, pressing Draco against the nearest wall as he pressed their lips together, eliciting a groan from the blond.

“Harry what are you doing?” he asked. “We’re meeting my parents for dinner.”

“I’m just nibbling,” Harry said, as he moved his lips down to Draco’s throat.

“Harry,” he whined. The brunette had hardly been able to keep his hands off of Draco since he’d learned of his pregnancy. Rubbing his back and feet, rubbing his stomach, incessantly. Talking to his stomach when he thought Draco was asleep, kissing him everywhere and generally driving the blond mad with desire. “We’ll be late,” he said, trying to place his hands on Harry’s chest to push him back though he didn’t really want to. Harry frowned, but wrapped his arm around Draco’s waist, and pulled him towards the door, as Draco lead him towards the ballroom. Harry grinned.

“Sneaking us off for more privacy?” he said, his nose buried in Draco’s neck. The blond groaned.

“Harry,” he hissed. “What if my parents see us?”

“Don’t care,” Harry whispered against his pale flesh. Draco bit back a moan with some amount of effort. They had barely made it into the ballroom when Harry had rounded on the blond, shoving him up against the wall, and slid his knee between the other man’s legs and kissed him deeply.

“SURPRISE!” the crowd yelled behind them. The lights turned on and suddenly all eyes were on Harry and Draco. Draco buried his face in Harry’s chest.

“Bloody hell,” came the unmistakeable voice of his friend Ron.

“I knew it,” Hermione whispered.

“Twenty galleons mate,” George said to the witch beside him. Pansy frowned.

“Bugger.”

“What is going on here?” Lucius stammered. Harry paused, and pulled himself away from Draco’s lips.

“Wait here,” he whispered, giving the blonde a peck before he turned around to face Lucius Malfoy. The older blond looked furious, his face nearly purple.

“Mr. Malfoy. I was going to do this properly at dinner, but seeing as how all my friends are here, now’s as good a time as any. I’d like your permission to marry your son,” Harry said. Lucius spluttered, turning impossibly more purple, as Narcissa appeared at his side, her eyes bright and shining with unshed tears.

“Absolutely no…” Lucius tried, but Narcissa glared at her husband. An entire silent conversation went on between the two and in the end, Narcissa came out victorious. Lucius hung his head, and grumbled. “Very well Potter. You have my permission.” Harry grinned, and turned towards his boyfriend, dropping to one knee.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, you have made me the happiest man, and it would be my honor, if you would be my husband. Will you marry me?” for a brief moment you could hear a pin drop in the room, as Draco stared at the brunette on one knee.

“Yes of course you great bloody prat!” Draco said and launched at his boyfriend, tears in his eyes. “You ruined your bloody surprise party,” he added.

Harry smiled as he kissed Draco’s lips and slipped the silver bad with the emerald eyed snake onto his fingers. “This is the best party I could have asked for,” Harry said, surreptitiously kissing Draco’s stomach in a move that was missed by neither Hermione, nor Narcissa. Harry got to his feet, and picked Draco up, twirling him around happily.

“Happy birthday you prat,” Draco said.

“Thanks babe,” Harry replied and gave Draco a long and languid kiss. There was a thunderous applause from their friends, as Harry and Draco enjoyed the rest of Harry’s birthday party.

 


	6. His Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an art post on Tumblr in which Draco is an Unspeakable kidnapped and is rescued by Harry.

_Thank Merlin!_ Harry thought the moment Draco Malfoy was back in his arms. Draco looked, terrible, he had scratches all over his face and multiple bruises that marred his otherwise beautiful features. His hair was matted and dirty yet as he looked up at Harry he couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s superficial,” Draco promised. “I’m okay.” Harry shook his head, burying his face in Draco’s neck, whispering promises to never let him go, as he held him close.

One week earlier, Harry had been in a full on panic. It had been six weeks since Unspeakable Malfoy had gone missing, and six weeks since the Head Auror had gotten a decent nights sleep. The entire Ministry had been in an uproar. An Unspeakable had been kidnapped right on Ministry of Magic premises, and the interim Minister, Gawain Robbards, had been sacked because of it, leaving the Ministry in turmoil. Thus far the Aurors had struggled to locate the missing Unspeakable, and his own department had been entirely uncooperative, much to Harry Potter’s chagrin. Through no uncertain threats on his part, Harry had  _finally_ managed to convince one of the Unspeakables to reveal a heretofore unknown clue to the DMLE. A cryptic note Malfoy had received three months earlier.

_I see your the golden boy’s plaything. Let’s see how he likes you playing dead._

Harry had stared at the note, his heart clenching in his chest. He and Draco were just friends, colleagues at best. Draco was married to his work, Harry had thought. Sure they’d flirted, but surely no one would take that as anything more than it really was, Harry thought. He’d been wrong. So very very wrong, and now it had been almost the better part of two months and they were no closer to finding him. The Head Auror demanded the note be matched against handwriting samples compiled by the Ministry over the course of the last three decades in the hopes of finding something  _anything_ to locate the missing Unspeakable. Harry had the Aurors working round-the-clock in shifts, some sleeping in their offices while others worked on trying to solve the puzzle. Harry himself had even been in the trenches with his men, refusing to give up the search. No one  _dared_ argue with the boy-who-lived, and Harry couldn’t help but be grateful for this fact for the first time in his life. He was a man on a mission, and like all missions handled by the Auror, Harry Potter would  _not_ be defeated. He hadn’t gotten as far as he had without help, however, and it had taken Harry the full weekend to decide to bring Hermione in on the search. The Under Secretary to Minister Shacklebolt, now presumed interim Minister for Robbards (who had lasted all of three months after Shacklebolt had retired) Hermione was terribly busy.

“Harry. I want to find Draco as much as anyone, but I’m afraid I’m simply too busy at the moment trying to deal with this whole Robbards fiasco!” Hermione said, looking rather flustered. Her hair stood up at odd angles, and she looked like she hadn’t slept any more than Harry had.

“Please, Hermione, just  _look_ at this note!” he said pleading. Perhaps it was the fact that Harry looked to be nearly in tears as he said it, or perhaps it was her eternal love for him that had won her over in the end, but Hermione took the note, and read it. Staring at it as if trying to work out the meaning of a puzzle. For a long moment, she was silent, while Harry bounced on his heels trying to be patient. It was difficult however and when Hermione finally handed him back the note, it was all he could do not to push.  _Well?_ He thought. But Hermione still hadn’t spoken. She was staring at Harry as if she were trying to piece  _him_ together, Harry groaned,  _he didn’t have time for this!_ he thought angrily.

“You two haven’t…” she paused, choosing her words carefully. “I mean, you’re not, you know,” she gestured to the note. Harry shook his head.

“It’s odd. I would swear the handwriting looked familiar, though I couldn’t say for certain where I’d seen it,” she commented, more to herself than to Harry. “I’ll keep it in the back of my mind, and if I remember, I’ll let you know,” she said. Harry nodded for it was all he could do, and he left Hermione to whatever it was she was doing now.

By Tuesday, Hermione still hadn’t come up with anything, and neither had the Aurors. Harry was running on approximately four hours of sleep over the course of the last 96 hours and his patience had worn thin. His hair was starting to grey at the edges from the stress, and it looked even more disheveled than usual with all his pulling at it.

“If you all don’t have an answer for me soon there’ll be SACKINGS ALL AROUND!” Harry ground out. It was an idle threat, Harry could ill afford the loss of half the Auror squad, but it made him feel better to say all the same.

“Mate,” Ron said, placing a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s time to get some real sleep huh? And something to eat, before you completely lose your head?” It was too late for that, Harry knew, and he suspected Ron would know it as well, not that his best friend would ever say as much. Harry dragged his hand through his hair. His mind was racing, the words of the message replaying in a loop over and over, demanding his attention.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Draco. His smiling face, his beautiful long blond hair, his mesmerizing silver eyes. If and when Harry ever found him, he would confess his feelings for the Unspeakable, and never let him go. Harry couldn’t  _bear_ the thought of losing him again for any length of time.

The week dragged ever onwards, and Harry began to feel hopeless, he’d managed to sleep a solid 16 hours though he’d felt guilty for it, and punished himself by staying awake from Thursday until Saturday, when, after six shots of PepperUp, Harry had passed out, and nearly been rushed to St. Mungo’s.

It had been Hermione in the end who had solved the riddle. A former Death Eater had been the expected culprit the Aurors had been looking for all this time, it had never even occurred to them to look towards one of their own. That was until a memo had been sent to Hermione Granger’s office, with identical handwriting to that of the person who had sent the note in the first place. Zacarias Smith, an Auror, and Draco’s ex-lover.

Harry had been furious, he’d  _personally_ interrogated the man under Veritiserum for several hours, ascertaining that Smith had imprisoned Draco underneath the Smith’s family farm in Cheshire.

Draco blushed as Harry held onto him, mumbling nonsense at him as he held the blond tight to his chest. “I love you,” Harry said. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Draco chuckled at that. “Yes my love,” he said. “I’ll do my best.” Harry stared at him, trying to impart  _just_ how serious he was.

“I mean it Draco! I don’t know what I’d do if I… if something had happened to you.” Harry leaned in and kissed him then, and Draco melted into the kiss. Everything ceased to matter after that, for he was in Harry’s arms, being snogged by Harry Potter, after once again being saved by the man.

“Take me home,” Draco said, as the kiss came to an end. Harry smiled.

“Gladly,” he said, and with that, the two apparated out of the cellar of the farm, back to Harry’s flat.

 


	7. Harry's Animagus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on another Tumblr art post about Harry's wolf animagus form.

Draco Malfoy froze as he came face to face with the massive black wolf as the two faced off in the snow. He  _knew_ the wolf would not hurt him, it was Harry after all, but when the boy-who-lived had bounded into the Slytherin common room while the 8th years were studying by the fire excitedly informing Draco he’d finally discovered his Animagus form this hadn’t exactly been what Draco had expected. Draco had to fight every instinct in his body that told him to take out his wand. The wolf cocked his head to the side as Draco stared at him. 

“Harry,” Draco said carefully. Harry had warned him not to startle the wolf, though it was him in Animagus form, his instincts were still more in charge than he was, and if Draco ran, the wolf would chase him, if he made any sudden and unexpected movements the wolf would no doubt tackle him. Draco held out his hand toward the wolf. He would be able to smell fear, Draco knew, so it was with some amount of effort Draco managed to push down his fear and slowly approach the wolf with his palm out. The wolf stared at him for a long moment, then without warning, flopped down onto his stomach, laying his chin down on the snow-covered ground. Draco swallowed as he approached the wolf, slowly, carefully, when at last he reached the wolf, Draco allowed him to sniff his hand. 

“That’s it, it’s just me, love,” Draco said with a grin. Harry sat up at that, looking at Draco excitedly. Draco smiled, his smile quickly faded however when Harry got up on his hind legs and lunged at him. Draco nearly screamed, until the wolf excitedly wrapped his front paws around Draco’s shoulder’s, licking his face in excited recognition. Draco groaned, “Harry,” he cried, as the wolf’s tail wagged excitedly and he continued licking Draco’s face. “Yes, yes, I love you too. Now that’s enough. Down boy,” he said, trying to sound more commanding than he knew himself to be where Harry was concerned these days. The wolf hopped off of him and cocked his head to the side again. Draco sighed. “I know, not very commanding now am I? That’s more your job isn’t it?” 

Very quickly the wolf morphed back into Harry, who was currently grinning as he lay in the snow. “Oh darling, your hopeless in the giving orders department,” he said with a laugh. Draco folded his arms across his chest pouting. 

“You know once upon a time Potter, I could boss people around with the best of them,” he said. 

“Yes, but never me.” 

“I suppose that was a bit of a turn on for me, in the end,” Draco admitted. Harry smirked wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist, as his Animagus form had done a few minutes earlier, and kissed Draco slow and deep. Draco moaned into the kiss. 

“So, did you like my form?” Harry asked. 

“Very cute. But I warn you, if you lick my face again, I’ll be forced to smack your nose with a rolled newspaper.” Harry chuckled at that, and leaned in, kissing his boyfriend softer this time. 

“Yes love,” Harry said against his lips, and Draco could have swooned. 

 


	8. Head Auror Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an art piece by nedjemmm on Tumblr.

Being Head Auror definitely had its perks, Harry thought, as Draco sat on his lap. The fact that he was not expected to share his office space with anyone was a  _big_ plus, he decided. Draco was completely naked now, covered only by Harry’s Auror robe over his lap, to keep away the post-coital chill. Draco looked beautiful like this, Harry thought, staring at the blond bombshell in front of him. His skin was flushed pink across his face, and shoulders and chest, and his hair was disheveled from Harry’s hands being in it while they’d fucked in Harry’s new chair. Less than twenty-four hours of being Head Auror and already Harry had managed to have sex on every still surface in the room.

Draco smiled, leaning over Harry and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Harry’s forehead, where his glasses had been pushed up into his hair sometime during their latest adventure. “Congratulations my love,” Draco said, staring down at his fiancé. Harry blushed crimson in spite of himself at Draco’s display of affection. Harry wasn’t used to the man gently kissing his forehead like that,  _Sappy Hufflepuff nonsense,_ Draco would always say whenever Harry did it to him. Though always with a smirk that denoted he expected Harry never to stop. Harry had long ago accepted that his fiancé could be emotionally stunted, it was his pureblood upbringing after all. Lucius didn’t tolerate emotions and as such, Draco struggled to express them. However free Harry made him feel, the fact remained, the small forehead kiss spoke volumes as to where they were in their relationship at present. It was more emotion than Draco had shared in all of their six years together, and Harry was more in love than he’d ever been.

Harry sighed happily as Draco leaned back, and kissed him on the lips this time. “Sappy Hufflepuff,” he whispered. Harry grinned.

“But you’re  _my_ sappy Hufflepuff,” Harry said, cutting off Draco’s protests with a deep and passionate kiss.

 


	9. Baby Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on another art post by Nedjemmm on Tumblr. Narcissa's brought out baby pictures, Draco is mortified.

Draco was mortified. He  _knew_ he shouldn’t have brought Harry to Malfoy Manor.  _Damn his mother bringing out the accursed baby books._

“Oh and this is Draco chasing the peacocks,” Narcissa said pointing to one of the photographs in which Draco was two years old, chasing after the white birds. Harry laughed.

“You were so chubby,” Harry said, cooing at his boyfriend, whose face was crimson now.

“Mother please!” Draco begged.

“Oh Draco, do calm down,” Narcissa said, turning the page. “Oh I love this one, Draco always did have a sweet tooth,” she said pointing to a photograph of a three-year-old Draco covered in chocolate. Draco groaned, turning to his father then who was merely sipping his tea, watching the scene unfold with a smirk on his face.

“Father, do something,” Draco said. “Obliviate me, Avada Kedavra me, anything,” Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son’s theatrics and smirked.

“Now now Draco, your mother is merely showing your boyfriend photographs from your youth, as is any mother’s wont. Surely you can’t begrudge her that,” Lucius said. Draco wanted to scream. When Narcissa had first invited Harry to join them for Sunday tea, Draco had expected a quiet sort of affair. Something  _far_ more dignified, as was befitting his mother and father. Forgetting, obviously that the pair had changed greatly since the war.

He and Harry had been dating now for almost a year, after running into one another at a Ministry Gala some three years after the war. Draco’s parents had asked after Draco’s love life for months now, it wasn’t as if they had  _missed_ the papers. Images of the two of them spending time together throughout the last year had cropped up every few weeks like clockwork, with wild speculation as to what the boy-who-lived was doing with the Malfoy-heir and former Death Eater. Then he’d gone off and gotten that godforsaken tattoo. Draco had remembered staring at his own name on his boyfriend’s neck, feeling as though he might faint for several long moments. It was easily the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him, and yet, the thought that Harry had done it at all, despite his fame made Draco feel very, very nervous. The last thing he needed was an assortment of Harry’s fans dropping off Howler’s to his work every day. Or otherwise to the Manor. Not that Draco spent much time there. He’d purchased his own flat in Muggle London some time ago and had been spending the weekends with Harry for some months now. Discreetly, Draco had taken to putting a glamour over Harry’s neck any time the two of them went out after Harry had come home with it. As it was, Harry hadn’t noticed at first and Draco had almost thought he’d gotten away with it.  _Damn the mirrors in Madam Malkin’s,_ Draco thought. Harry had caught sight of his glamoured neck, and without so much as a word, had immediately taken off the glamour. As the two left the shop, they were bombarded with the press, people asking after the nature of their relationship. Without answering, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and snogged him in front of everyone.

Three days later, Narcissa had invited them for tea.

Draco should have known it would be a setup. His mother didn’t like being lied to, and her son decidedly keeping his relationship with one Harry Potter secret from her was the worst sort of lie. This was her revenge. Sweet, and cold, like any good Slytherin would have it. Harry smiled, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered into his hair. Draco tensed as Harry kissed his neck, ever so softly. The thought of expressing any sort of public display of affection in front of his parents had filled Draco with dread. They knew he was gay, and they’d accepted it well, still to see it was quite a different matter. 

Narcissa looked pleased, and Lucius had remained quiet, still smirking as if he’d just been handed the keys to the Ministry.

“Who’s hungry, the elves have prepared a fabulous lunch,” Narcissa said standing. Draco sighed, following his mother toward the dining room. She stopped him before Draco could enter. “Draco darling,” she said. Her voice sweet as poison. “You ever hide your boyfriend from me again, and I’ll have you disowned” she hissed and kissed his temple. Draco swallowed.

“Sorry mother,” he said as the four sat down at the table together. Narcissa smiled, raising her wine glass in a toast. “To Harry and Draco,” she said. “I do hope I hear wedding bells in the future. And grandchildren Mr. Potter.” Draco nearly choked on his glass of wine then. Harry merely smiled.

“I assure you, I can handle that,” Harry promised. Draco groaned, downing his glass of wine in one gulp.  _This was going to be a very long afternoon_ , he thought.

 


	10. Amortentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another art post from Nedjemmm. Brewing amortentia in 8th year.

Harry couldn’t help but snicker, as Draco elbowed him in the ribs, barely containing his own laughter as the room looked expectantly at the two of them. Properly brewed Amortentia was expected to contain the scent of your love, the moment they had finished Harry had found several dozen scents assaulting his nose at once. All of them, unquestionably Draco. Slughorn gave the two partnered eighth years a serious look. He had insisted that everyone who brewed properly reveal their findings to the rest of the class, and after tense twenty minutes it was now Harry and Draco’s turn. Draco leaned into the potion and took a long whiff. “Broom polish, leather,” he paused giving Harry a look then. “Butterbeer and treacle.” Harry was no longer laughing now. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as Professor Slughorn turned his expectant look towards himself. Harry sucked in a deep breath and leaned over the potion as Draco had moments earlier and inhaled the potion. This close, several scents were more distinguishable than others.

“Parchment, the sea, French lavender soap,” Harry paused, something distinctly Malfoy hit his senses then. An old, very expensive cologne. Harry looked up at Draco from beneath his lashes. No one knew of their secret. The romance they’d been carrying on since August when Harry had returned Draco’s wand.  _Hell_ Harry’s friends didn’t even know he was bi, but this thing with Draco it was too sacred to him. Too precious and tenuous to let the world in on their secret, or at least that’s what he had told himself in the beginning, now Harry wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Still, he couldn’t make out Draco’s inscrutable expression so Harry pushed on. “I can’t make out the last bit,” he lied. Draco raised an eyebrow then and Harry very discreetly shook his head. Slughorn seemed properly satisfied however and turned to the next set of students as Draco leaned in close to Harry and the scent of the cologne once more assaulted Harry’s senses.

“Do you think perhaps we should have lied?” Draco asked.

“Your expensive pureblood cologne was all I could smell at the end,” Harry said. “It’s rather driving me mad.”

Draco smirked. “Meet me in the supply cupboard?” he asked cheekily. Harry swallowed, in recent months their secret meetings had become increasingly more public. Both finding it difficult to keep their hands off one another for more than a few moments at a time. As it was, Harry had begun to wonder whether or not his friends noticed. Behind him, he could feel Hermione eyeing him, the witch always  _was_ too smart for her own good. If anyone had noticed them, it’d be her. Harry sighed.

“Best not. Don’t look now but Hermione’s eyeing us.”

“She’ll know what you smell like,” Draco sighed. They had yet to say the word ‘love’ yet, but the Amortentia seemed as much a confession as any other.

“Perhaps we should tell our friends?” Harry asked, feeling suddenly guilty. In the beginning, he had been able to justify their secret from their friends as they didn’t know  _what_ they were to one another, but the Amortentia felt like a turning point. It was no longer a question of where they stood with one another. They  _were_ in love, and Harry didn’t think he should keep that from his friends.

“If Granger’s caught on, Pansy will have caught on. That girl is like a bloodhound for secrets. She knew I was gay before I did,” Draco held back a chuckle. “Suppose my glaring at you and the Patil girl during the Yule Ball gave me away.”

Harry smirked, staring at his boyfriend, “All the way back then?”

Draco sighed wistfully, “I don’t believe I remember I time I  _didn’t_ fancy you, Harry,” he whispered.

“You sure hid it well.”

“I had to,” Draco said solemnly, staring at the potion. The two had deftly avoided the subject of the war and of their pasts for the better part of their relationship now. For better or worse, it had just been easier for their love life to avoid the subject altogether. Now, however, staring into the potion, Draco couldn’t help but think about all the terrible mistakes he’d made along the way. “I’m sorry.”

Harry took his hand under the desk.

“I know,” he said. Barely resisting the urge to lay his head on Draco’s shoulder, or otherwise, move to attempt to comfort him in any of the ways Harry  _knew_ Draco liked. It all required public displays of affection that despite Harry’s desire to give he was certain Draco was not ready for. Something about pureblood etiquette and not flaunting one’s lifestyle. It sounded disgustingly like something Lucius Malfoy no doubt drilled into his head, and Harry wanted to punch the man for good measure. As it was, Harry took comfort in Draco lacing their fingers together, hidden beneath the desk then.

“You can tell them if you want to,” Draco said quietly.

“I want you to be there,” Harry said, squeezing his hand and running his thumb over the back of Draco’s hand. “We’re in this together love.” Draco gasped at the use of the word. Out loud it felt so raw, so real, so much better than Draco ever thought it would feel. Or  _could_ feel.

Draco turned towards Harry then, “Do you trust me?” Draco asked, leaning towards his boyfriend slightly.

Harry smiled, his heart thudding in his chest. “Always,” Harry said, nodding to encourage whatever Draco wanted. Draco closed the space between them, pressing their lips together. Several gasps echoed around them, and somewhere from their left Draco heard Pansy exhale.

“Finally.”

Hermione smiled, sharing a knowing look with the dark-haired witch, then turned to Ron who smirked.

“Glad he’s happy,” Ron said softly. Hermione smiled, patting his head.

When at last they broke apart, emerald green eyes, met grey. Harry could see the tinge of fear reflected within, but beyond the whispered murmurings it seemed everyone was happy for them.

“Alright students let’s calm down,” Professor Slughorn said, seemingly oblivious to their kiss in the middle of his classroom. “For homework, I’ll expect three feet of parchment about the purpose of Amortentia and possible alternatives to common ingredients in the potions,” and with that, he dismissed the class. Harry sighed happily, laying his head on Draco’s shoulder.

“What made you do it?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged, “Hearing you call me, love made it feel very real,” he admitted. Harry nodded then.

“I do, you know,” Harry said. “Love you.”

Draco beamed. “I know, I do too,” he said lacing their fingers together again as he pulled on his backpack and the two made their way out of the classroom hand in hand. Harry suspected despite his actions in potions, it would be difficult for Draco to say the word properly for a while yet. No matter, Harry could say it enough for both of them.

Their lip lock in potions had spread around the school by the time the two reached Transfiguration together, and Harry found as he sat next to Draco he couldn’t be happier. Professor McGonagall gave them a small smile, as she made her way to the board and began her lesson. All in all, it was the most perfect way to come out Harry could have imagined, not with a quiet announcement but with a loud, in your face, kiss.

 


	11. Parseltongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snake in the forest speaks to Harry about Draco. Fluff ensues. Based on an art post by Arbutus-blossoms

Draco stared blankly at the hissing emerald snake, it was beautiful, he thought. Even more beautiful was watching his boyfriend Harry conversing with the snake in the middle of the Forbidden Forest as if this were the most perfectly normal thing in the world. He would never admit it, but Draco had something of a weakness for the hissing sounds emanating from his boyfriend.

“What’s he saying, Harry?” Draco asked barely above a whisper.

“Your boyfriend is very handsome,” the snake said.

“Thank you, but he’s not…” Harry trailed off, it didn’t seem worth it to try and explain it to the snake, Harry wasn’t quite sure what they were. After years of fighting, they’d become something of friendly during their 8th year, but, nothing like what he wanted. “He’s a Slytherin you know, his house creator could speak to snakes like me.”

“Salazar,” the snake hissed.

“You knew him?”

“Of him yes. He was a good friend to my ancestors. He spoke often to us and gave us the best rats.”

Harry nodded. The snake slithered toward Draco then, crawling up his leg. Draco stared at Harry nervously.

“Harry?” he asked.

“Don’t’ worry, he’s friendly,” Harry assured him. The snake slithered until he reached Draco’s shoulder, and stared at him in the eyes.

“He smells of the sea,” the snake commented.

“The Slytherin common room.”

“Can I be your pet?” the snake asked, his eyes never leaving Draco’s.

“He wants to know if he can be your pet,” Harry said. Draco stared into the eyes of the snake.

“Y-yes,” Draco replied, giving the snake a gentle pat on the head, as Harry told him yes. The snake hissed happily and coiled across Draco’s shoulder.

“Does he know you love him?” the snake asked suddenly, laying his head on Draco’s right shoulder. Harry sighed.

“It hasn’t come up.”

“What hasn’t?” Draco asked. Harry’s eyes widened then.

“I didn’t say that in Parseltongue?” Harry asked. He’d slipped in and out of it so easily, he’d never slipped up before, not around a snake anyway. Draco eyed Harry then, absently petting the snakes head.

“His hands are soft,” the snake said. Harry blushed, he’d always wondered what Draco’s hands would feel like, and having a snake describe it to him was maddening. 

“Harry?” Draco asked. Green eyes met grey.

“We should head back, it’s getting late.” Draco sighed and nodded as he and Harry made their way back up to the castle, the snake coiled comfortably around Draco’s neck, to secure himself.

“His neck smells like honey,” the snake said.

Harry groaned. “Cut that out,” he hissed.

Draco eyed Harry as he hissed at the snake, glaring. “You two fighting?” Draco asked with a smirk. “I’ll not have you upsetting my little Salazar.”

“I don’t think that’s his name,” Harry said, then turning to the snake hissed, “What  _is_ your name?”

“Whatever the golden-haired one wishes to call me,” the snake replied.

“He says whatever you want, so… Salazar it is then,” Harry replied to Draco. Draco laughed the melodic sound that made Harry’s heart soar. They were nearly to the Slytherin common room when Harry stopped Draco mid-step. “I… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Harry said, his palms were sweating. Draco raised an eyebrow. “I…” he swallowed, pulling up his Gryffindor courage. “I rather, fancy you,” he said barely above a whisper. The snake looked as if he’d understood this but Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from Draco.

“Y—you mean that?” Draco asked. Harry nodded, looking at the ground.

“Oh Harry,” Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders and kissed him softly on the cheek.

“Good work Potter,” the snake hissed.

“Thanks, Salazar,” Harry replied, taking Draco’s hand as the three walked back to the Slytherin common room. 


	12. Drarry Meets Tom & Jerry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just cracky crack. Thanks Mzuul. No explanation. Just nonsense. Harry and Draco meet Tom and Jerry don't ask just enjoy.

“Right, so here’s how we’re going to do the costume party this year. We’re all going to dress up as classic Muggle cartoon characters,” Seamus said, three weeks before Halloween, as the group sat in the 8th year common room. 

Draco sighed. “I don’t know anything about Muggle cartoons,” he said. Seamus smiled, wickedly and right then, Draco should have known. This was a setup.

“We’ll draw them out of a hat,” Dean said. “That way it’ll be random, so it’s fair.” Draco folded his arms across his chest but otherwise said nothing. It wasn’t as if he could reasonably argue now, could he? “Unless of course, you’re scared.”

Draco glared, “I’m game.” Dean and Seamus shared a conspiratorial smile. The Slytherin never  _could_ resist a challenge. 

Dean held up the hat with the list of cartoon character names in it. “You can draw first Malfoy,” he said. Draco rolled his eyes sticking his hand into the hat and pulled out a single name.  _Tom._ Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” he demanded. Several snickers went around the room, and Draco felt his face heating. Harry cleared his throat from beside him.

“It’s a cartoon, Tom and Jerry. They’re a cat and a mouse.”

“Which is which?” Draco asked.

“Tom is the cat. You know… tomcat?” Draco raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’m to be a bloody cat?” Draco groaned.

 Harry picked next. “Oh look I got Jerry. See it’s like a couple’s costume,” Harry said.

Draco snorted. “Yeah. Right. Only how are you the bloody mouse in this scenario?”

“Cause I’m cute and innocent,” Harry retorted.

“And small.”

“Not where it counts,” Harry said almost sing-song. Draco nearly choked on his tongue.

“May I be excused?” he asked.

“No,” Dean replied, as the rest of the students continued to pull out their assigned costumes. Hermione got Velma, while Ron got Fred. Whoever they were. Then there were Padma, Parvati, and Lavender who got something called the Powerpuff Girls, and several other cartoons that Draco was certain he had misheard. When at last the names were pulled, with Seamus getting something called Scooby Doo, and Dean getting Shaggy, or at least that’s what it had sounded like, Dean smiled at the group.  _What odd names these characters had,_ Draco thought shaking his head. “Right, now then. You’ll be expected to come dressed as your character so you might want to do some research,” Dean said at last.

Draco pursed his lips. How on earth was he supposed to research a Muggle cartoon character? Draco didn’t know the first thing about Muggle  _anything_ let alone whatever a cartoon was.

“I’ll help you,” Harry whispered to him. Draco snorted.  _Right. Perfect. Just what I need._ Draco thought. 

He would never admit it in a million years of course, but  _Tom and Jerry_ hadturned out to be quite an adorable little thing.

“Kinda seems like us, huh?” Harry said as the two watched the cartoon cat and mouse chase each other around the screen. Draco huffed.

“Hardly Potter, I’ve never  _once_ chased you. But I seem to recall you stalking me for the better part of a year not all that long ago,” Harry chuckled then.

“Oh, it’s all in good fun. It was totally random.” Draco didn’t believe that for a second. 

When the episode had ended, Draco stared at the screen for a moment, “You know. In Wizarding media, stories like this are more interactive. Why isn’t this like that?”

“Because it’s Muggle,” Harry said. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Yes Potter I understand that, but surely the Muggles don’t just  _watch_ stories they can’t interact with.” Harry eyed him. “Oh look,” he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the screen. Harry’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know if you should…” but it was too late. With a wave of his wand, a bright yellow beam shot out of the end at the screen. A moment later, out bounced Tom and Jerry, only they weren’t the cartoon cat and mouse, but two very human boys.

Draco smiled, turning towards Harry and looking rather pleased with himself. Harry stared blankly at the living cartoons Draco had unleashed. “Oh bloody hell.”

Draco merely smiled, turning back to Tom and Jerry. “How do you do?” Draco asked. The one called Tom, who looked rather oddly like a taller version of Potter, only with much better-coiffed hair, blinked at him, he opened his mouth as if to speak only, nothing came out. Jerry who was considerably shorter, and much leaner like Draco himself, only with mousy brown hair, smirked at Tom then. Though neither one seemed to be able to speak.

“Draco they never talked in those cartoons!” Harry said. “Put them back now before someone sees and asks questions.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist Potter,” Draco cleared his throat and waved his wand at the former cartoons. Only, nothing happened.

“What’s not happening?” Harry asked, frantic.

Draco worried his lower lip. “Well, I don’t actually know the counter spell to this.”

“Draco!” Harry hissed. “You’ve just brought two cartoon characters to life and you don’t know how to send them back!”

Draco shrugged. “Surely it can’t be  _that_ hard.”

Harry snorted, watching as Draco went through several incantations with no success, the two boys merely blinking at Draco as he waved his wand at them, and then it happened. Jerry snatched Draco’s wand and took off in a flash. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Oh, for the love of Salazar!” Tom stared at the spot where Jerry had been. “Well go after him you bloody stupid cat!” Draco shrieked. Tom nodded and ran after the mousy haired boy with lightning speed. Draco groaned.

“Just bloody perfect,” he thought.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who lost his wand to a cartoon mouse!” Harry said. Draco eyed him.

“Considering  _you’ve_ had it, it seems like a bit of an upgrade don’t you think?” Harry stuck out his tongue in response and Draco couldn’t help but chuckle. Fortunately, Jerry didn’t get very far, unused to his human form, he’d attempted to run through a mouse hole, wand in hand and had crashed into the wall, head first. Tom snatched the wand from the ground and took it back to Draco with a proud smile. 

Draco pat, his head in the way one might do with a cat,  _not that he’d ever owned one,_ and renervated Jerry. 

 *           *             *

Two weeks later, and Draco still hadn’t managed the counterspell, to his credit, neither had Hermione and in an effort to make the two blend in better, Draco had opted to give Tom an extra set of his Slytherin robes, while Harry shared his Gryffindor ones with Jerry.

“Remarkable how well they fit,” Harry said. 

“Only because Jerry’s a shorty like you,” Draco said. “Tom and I are of perfectly  _normal_ heights.”

“You try growing tall when you’re stuffed into a cupboard during your formative years,” Harry snapped. Draco merely blinked at him then.

“I beg your pardon, did you say cupboard.”

“Forget I said anything,” Harry replied, looking very uncomfortable.

“You mean to tell me you grew up in a  _cupboard?”_

Harry sighed. “Only till I was 11,” he said.

“ELEVEN?” Draco shrieked.

“Well after I came back from Hogwarts my Aunt and Uncle were a little scared of me, so they gave me one of Dudley’s old bedrooms. Which I was locked in, and fed through a cat door but it  _was_ bigger.”

Draco merely stared at him then.

“I… have, no words,” Draco shook his head. Harry looked visibly uncomfortable so Draco opted to change the subject. “Right well, although I don’t know how we’ll explain them,  _obviously_ Tom and Jerry will be  _us,_ at the costume party. I’ve already managed some rather nifty cat ears with a transfiguration spell,” Draco said proudly. Harry smirked.

“Oh?” 

Draco nodded. “Just you wait, Potter, it’s going to knock your trousers off. That  _is_ what the Muggle’s say isn’t it?”

Harry shook his head, a faint blush rising in his cheeks then. “Socks,” he said. 

“Oh right yes,” Draco smiled, and Harry was beginning to want to snog that smile right off of him.

By Halloween, Draco had managed more than just cat ears, he had managed a whole tail, and whiskers too. He had opted to keep his hair blond, despite the human Tom who’s hair was an inky black. Briefly, Draco had considered wearing a black and grey bodysuit and had instead opted for a white tee and a grey button-down, which he felt made his point better. For his part, Harry was wearing a brown baseball shirt, or that was how  _he_ explained it, and mouse ears. Draco frowned, as costumes went it wasn’t especially inventive.

“What are you supposed to be?” Draco asked.

“I’m a mouse, duh,” Harry said with a smirk. Draco merely stared at him, unblinking. “Right remind me to have you see  _Mean Girls._ Actually, you’re rather like Regina George.”

“I’ll take your word for it and take that as the compliment I’m sure it was,” Draco replied.

“You do that,” Harry said, looking around the room for Tom and Jerry as them. Draco had drawn on a lightning bolt and glasses, on Jerry with a makeup pencil he’d nicked from Pansy. Draco spotted them, in the corner by the fireplace, and his eyes widened.

“Don’t look now but that cat seems to be devouring that mouse,” Draco said. Harry followed his line of vision. Sure enough, Jerry was perched in Tom’s lap, snogging him rather incessantly.

“Didn’t see  _that_ coming when I was a kid,” Harry said.

“Indeed,” Draco replied watching them in rapt fascination. He tried not to think particularly hard about why he was suddenly jealous of a cartoon mouse. Draco shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. When Harry spoke up. 

“Suppose we should give them a taste of their own medicine?” he waggled his eyebrows. 

“I’d rather not have your arse in my lap Potter,” Draco replied. Harry rolled his eyes, dragging Draco closer to him then. 

“I was thinking you could be in mine, kitten,” Draco shuddered at the nickname as Harry pulled him towards another couch and into his lap. By far it was the strangest Halloween he’d ever experienced, and easily, one of his favorites.


	13. Hogwarts Professors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mzuul inspires yet another one. Hogwarts Professors meet in the rain.

A loud crack emanated through the Hogsmeade station, lightning flashed across the rain-darkened sky as rivulets of water tumbled down to the earth. Harry sighed happily as he looked around the station, in the distance he could see the looming facade of Hogwarts despite the thick clouds and heavy rain. He was finally coming home again.

“Potter?” came a voice from behind him. Harry turned quickly, the familiar shock of platinum blond hair causing Harry to gasp. Whatever he’d expected, seeing Draco Malfoy in Hogsmeade, now, hadn’t been it.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, as Draco approached, he was wearing a smart black trench coat, black tie, and he was carrying a black dragonhide briefcase.

“I’m the new Potions Professor,” Draco said with a smile. It had been ages since they’d seen one another. Ages since– Harry tried not to think about it now. “You?” Draco’s voice knocking him out of the depressing memories of their past.

“Professor, as well. Defense.” Draco smiled, that wonderfully addictive smile that once upon a time Harry had been all too familiar with.

“I’m glad to hear that Harry, I always thought you’d make a great teacher,” he said. Harry looked up into Draco’s eyes then, it was odd, how much difference ten years made, Draco was as beautiful as ever, his hair slicked back again like it had been back in their school days, his suit perfectly tailored. Everything about him looked impeccable, and  _so_ out of reach. Harry nearly snorted at the thought. Draco  _was_ out of reach. Perhaps he’d always been. Perhaps Harry had only allowed himself to believe he was ever something reachable. Less like the Golden Snitch and more like a shooting star, visible, and beautiful, but never touchable. There was something slightly sad in Draco’s smile, though Harry didn’t want to think too much of it.

“I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other now?” Harry asked.

“I suppose we will,” Draco replied.

“H—how’s Astoria and Scorpius?” Harry asked though he didn’t  _really_ want to know. His stomach twisted.

Draco sighed, “Astoria died last year. Actually.” Harry gasped.

“Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry.” Draco shook his head.

“When my parents married me off no one saw fit to inform me that my future wife would be carrying a blood curse that would leave me a single father but… Scorpius and I have managed,” Draco sounded bitter and Harry wondered if it was for the fact he’d been married off or the fact she’d died, or both.

Harry nodded quietly. Not sure what to say to that. When Draco had broken up with him all those years ago,  _to fulfill his duty to his family_  as he’d put it, Harry had been simultaneously furious and devastated, though he couldn’t say whether it was more at Draco and his cowardice or at himself. He had convinced himself that it had all been for the best. Their history never would have permitted anything real between them. They were both too broken, too damaged by their pasts. Harry hadn’t managed a decent relationship in the decade since, and eventually in the last three years had given up trying entirely.

A crack of thunder echoed in the sky, knocking the two of them out of their own quiet ruminations.

“I should probably head up,” Harry said, Draco nodded, watching Harry’s back as he went. For a moment Draco wondered if perhaps he’d been too quick to accept Minerva’s offer to take over after Slughorn had finally retired. Working in close proximity with one’s ex, even if no one else  _knew_ you had been together seemed like a bad idea at the best of times, even worse when you had the history that the two of them had, even before they’d been together. 

Were he a lesser wizard, Draco might have found it a peculiar coincidence that they were both becoming professors at the same time. But Draco didn’t  _believe_ in coincidences. He believed in patterns, and the universe, and the often unsubtle hand of fate.  _Yes,_ he and Harry  _would_ be seeing a lot more of each other now that they worked together, but Draco couldn’t help but wonder, to what end?


	14. Harry's Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another one from TreacleTrvts. Draco's a dragon and he's rather attached to Harry.

Harry Potter was restless. In the months following the war, he had found himself seriously debating where to go and what to do. In the immediate aftermath of his own death, becoming an Auror had suddenly felt out of the question. Risking his life for the rest of it seemed absurd at the best of times and Harry had found that his desire to fight evil had died with him that day. He had done enough. Which was how, Harry had found himself in Romania, raising dragons with Charlie Weasley.

Harry had always been fascinated by dragons, from the Norwegian Ridgeback he’d rescued in first year, to the Hungarian Horntail he’d faced off with during the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had found himself enamored with the creatures. But of all the dragons Harry had known the white-gold scaled dragon that had appeared in Charlie’s sanctuary almost three weeks to the day after Harry had arrived had quickly become Harry’s favorite. Perhaps it was the brilliant silver of his eyes or the way his scales were remarkably soft to the touch, but Harry found himself rather taken with this particular dragon. 

“You really shouldn’t play favorites,” Charlie said as Harry was offering the little dragon a galleon. The dragon seemed to debate Harry’s gift, looking as though he might refuse. Harry frowned at the thought. 

“Come on little guy,” he said. “I won’t hurt you,” the dragon seemed to glare at Harry’s tone, then snatched up the galleon and curled up around it. Harry smiled then, looking rather like he’d just won the house cup. Then, without warning the dragon had transfigured in Harry’s hands, and moments later, Draco Malfoy had appeared very near where Harry was standing. Harry nearly screamed. 

“What have you done with my dragon?” he said accusingly, staring at the spot where his dragon had just been in his hands. It had happened so quickly that Harry had been sure he’d imagined it. 

Draco merely eyed him. “I beg your pardon?”

“There was a dragon! Right here in my hand and now you’re standing where he…” Harry froze mid-sentence half his mind screaming that Draco had somehow apparated directly onto Harry’s favorite dragon. The other half of him, the more rational half knew _._ Draco  _was_ the dragon. Swallowing hard, Draco merely eyed him.

“Have you completely gone mad Potter or is this just a new tactic you’ve got to throw me off?” Draco demanded.

Harry stared, Draco looked so much different than Harry had remembered, he was tall and sleek as always, but now Harry could see a bit of the dragon in him. He was beautiful, and elegant, and looked regal as Harry had ever known him. Harry pulled out another galleon and before he knew what was happening, Draco had vanished, and the small white-scaled dragon had appeared in his place, curling around the gold coin in his hand.

Harry smiled, petting the dragon happily as Charlie eyed him, curiously.

“The others might get jealous if they see him getting special coins just from you. Even for dragons, Harry Potter is very special,” Charlie said. Harry lowered his eyes at that.

“Stop taking the piss,” he said.

“I’m not,” Charlie argued. “I’m quite serious. The dragons all love you, or hadn’t you noticed,” he pointed at Draco who was currently curled in his hand, nuzzling his palm. Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. It tickled, but the thought of moving Draco somewhere else was out of the question.

Which was how, Harry found himself sleeping with a dragon in his bed.

It was meant to be a one time thing, Draco had been skittish around the other dragons, and refused to leave Harry’s side, leading to having the dragon curled up on his stomach while he slept. His single coin resting under his belly, his tail wagging reflexively against Harry’s skin. It was, Harry found, oddly relaxing, petting the sleeping creature while he read before sleep eventually falling asleep petting the dragon. The next morning Harry was surprised to find Charlie Weasley standing over him, his bed devoid of his dragon. Harry frowned as  Charlie gave him a serious look.

“Harry,” he said.

“Where’s Draco?”

“I’ve moved him into the pen, he needs to be around the other dragons.”

“But he’s not…” Harry argued.

“But he’s not aware of it. Not like this. He’s not an animagus mate, this was a curse. He’s not even aware of it and as far as he probably knows it’s still 1996.”

Harry frowned at that. Was it really true? Did Draco not  _know?_

* * *

Despite his warnings, Harry found himself buying silver and gold trinkets for the dragon every chance he got, and though it was clear that Draco was unaware of his surroundings following the transformations, he still held on to the jewelry Harry gave him, going so far as to hiss any time Harry came too near the objects. Harry couldn’t help but grin at this. It was cute seeing his dragon protecting his hoard, even as a human. There was something so precious about it that Harry couldn’t help but find it impossibly endearing.

Harry wasn’t sure when the gifts to his dragon had become fully an attempt to court Draco, but as he stared at the golden bracelet with emeralds, rubies, and sapphires encrusted in it, that had cost more than most flat rents, Harry had seen the signs. Still, the look of delight on the dragon’s face when Harry had presented him with the gift was more than enough to make it worth it for Harry. Especially when human Draco proudly showed off his jewels as if they’d been gifted from Merlin himself.

“Can I take a closer look?” Harry had asked, touching Draco’s wrist to see the bracelet. Draco glared, curling his hand with the bracelet on it under his chin, much like his dragon form would. Harry sighed happily, it was so endearing that he thought he might die from the sheer adorableness of it all. 

True to Charlie’s word of warning the other dragons  _were_  getting jealous. Harry had taken to giving Draco necklaces, and shiny bits of silver and gold in the hopes of making the dragon preen with his ever-increasing hoard.  Harry couldn’t be bothered by this however, Draco would curl up on his lap so adorably in the afternoon, the dragon all but purring as Harry stroked his scales. Sometimes Harry would even read to him.

As the weeks wore on, Harry found himself more and more falling for Draco, and though the thought of giving up his favorite dragon saddened him, the thought of Draco being unable to stay a human for more than a few random moments at a time was proving painful for Harry.

He needed to talk to Hermione, and soon.

 * * *

Hermione looked down at the dragon, possessively sprawled across Harry’s lap, several bits of jewelry adorning its tiny frame.

“A curse?” she said, her eyes never leaving the dragons. It was eying her with what could only be described as mistrust, then Draco crawled up onto Harry’s shoulder, curling around his neck, and laid his head on there as if to protect him as if Harry were a part of his hoard. Harry absently scratched the top of the dragon’s head as Hermione watched them.

“That’s what Charlie seems to think,” Harry said.

Hermione opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but for the life of her, nothing came to mind. It was so unexpected. Harry looked so happy here, a dragon curled protectively around his neck as though it were the most natural thing in the world as the two sipped tea in Harry’s room on the dragon reserve. Hermione took a sip of her tea, in an effort not to have to say anything as of yet. A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind. Hermione frowned. Though she had given Draco little thought during the war, finding out that he’d been cursed to transform seemingly at random into a dragon for the rest of his life felt cruel even to her. There was no love lost between them certainly, Malfoy had always been awful to her. But one look at Harry’s face told Hermione everything she needed to know.

Harry was in love with him. And whatever else she felt about Draco, she knew she would help him for Harry’s sake.

“I’ll see what I can find,” she said. “But Harry, if this is what I think it is, there may not be much we can do,”

“What do you think it is?” Harry asked.

“I can’t be sure,” she said “I’ll have to do some research. In the meantime, I don’t think you should get your hopes up.”

Harry refused to be told. Every time Draco would turn into a human again, there would seem to be a little glimmer of recognition in his eyes as if he was more and more aware of what was going on. Harry had never been brave enough to ask outright if Draco knew he was under a curse, or who had put him there. His guess was Lucius, though why remained unknown.

As the months dragged on, the times between Draco’s human transformations seemed fewer and far between. Where previously it had seemed to be every few days, now it seemed every few weeks, then once a month at best.

For his part, the dragon seemed to know that Harry was depressed, and did everything he could to make Harry smile, including on more than one occasion, flying directly into his face and licking from his chin up to his forehead. Harry laughed, the dragons hot breath on his face. Harry held him close then, offering the creature a small kiss on the top of his head before he fell asleep each night.

Once, Draco had awoken to find himself curled up in Harry’s embrace, Draco had shrieked, waking Harry up from a wonderful dream, about Draco and him making out on a pile of gold.

“You conned me into your bed!” Draco yelled. “Oh, how very like you, Potter. Is that why you’ve been plying me with gold and jewels all this time?” he demanded.

Harry sighed. “No, I…”

“Did you think if you paid me enough I’d just spread my legs for you?” Harry tried not to picture that mental image but had failed spectacularly.

“It’s not like that,” he said. “Hang on, how do you know  _I_ gave you the jewels.” 

“You’re the only bloody person I’ve seen!” Draco yelled. 

Harry sighed. “You weren’t… you at the time,” he said. Draco glared. “You were a dragon! A very needy, very loving dragon. Who I’m pretty sure has decided I’m part of his hoard.”

“I beg your pardon?” Draco demanded. “Is this some sort of joke about my name?”

Harry sighed, “No, you appeared here in Romania a few weeks ago, as a dragon.”

Draco stared. “Romania?” Harry nodded. “Dragon?” Harry nodded again.

“We think its a curse, but we can’t figure out who…”

Draco spoke suddenly then, “Did you know my mother chose my name? Not just for the constellation but because she always loved dragons?” Draco sighed, and before he could say anything more, he’d transformed, leaving Harry more confused than ever.

 * * *

Three months later, and Draco still hadn’t returned to his human form. Harry was beginning to worry now. All he could think about was Draco’s cryptic last words.

“Have you found anything?” Harry asked when Hermione had finally fire-called It had felt like months an eternity of waiting now.

Hermione frowned. “I’m sorry Harry,” she said.

Harry nodded, lamely. “I keep thinking about what he said the last time he transformed, about how his mother chose his name because she loved dragons. I can’t figure out why but it feels significant.”

“You don’t suppose  _she_ cursed him?” Hermione asked.

Harry considered this. It did feel unbelievable and yet… given everything that had happened with Narcissa following the war, her desire to stay underground, after having helped Harry by lying to Voldemort.

“We need to talk to her,” Harry said.

Hermione nodded.

 * * *

Narcissa Malfoy looked as menacing as ever, though she couldn’t seem to draw her eyes from the dragon that had wrapped itself protectively around Harry’s shoulders. For a long moment she didn’t speak, then she said, so quietly Harry had almost missed it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Did you do this?”

Narcissa sighed and pulled out her wand. “It was the only way,” she said. Draco floated off Harry’s neck then, gliding towards his mother. Harry instinctively reached out, “I needed to ensure he’d be safe,” she said. “The Dark Lord was so angry after he’d failed to kill Dumbledore, I thought he might kill Draco on the spot. So I did the only thing I could do,” she waved her wand at the dragon, and all at once he transformed back into Draco Malfoy.

Harry nearly cried, racing across the space that separated them to wrap Draco up in his arms. Draco stared around the room confused. “H—Harry?” he asked. Harry nodded. Draco smiled. Harry looked up at Narcissa then, who was watching the scene with a fond smile.

“He’ll remember everything of his time as a dragon, particularly his feelings for you. Obvious though they were.” Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck.

“I’m going to miss being able to curl up around your neck,” Draco whispered in his ear. Harry laughed, kissing Draco softly.

“It’ll be worth it to hold you in my arms and know that you’re really you,” he replied.

Draco sighed happily. He was the luckiest dragon in the world.


	15. One Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a Tumblr ask: Post-break up "one last time" angsty sex?  
> Smut ensues

They shouldn’t be doing this and Draco knew it. He and Harry had broken up three months ago, and in that time Draco had found himself another man, while Harry had allegedly gone back to the She-Weasel if the Prophet was to be believed. Then again, they insisted Draco had broken Harry’s heart, never willing to believe that the golden boy could possibly have been the one to end things between them. Yet here he was, standing in front of Draco, in Quidditch leathers, looking fitter than Draco had remembered him being. He’d been picked up by the Appleby Arrows almost immediately after he’d graduated Hogwarts. Draco swallowed,  _why had he entered the locker room in the first place?_ To congratulate his ex-boyfriend? Or had he been hoping for this? To be pinned down by Harry with a single stare, waiting for him to make the first move. Harry pulled off the arm protector with his teeth and Draco felt himself quiver as he stood, rooted to the spot. He  _wanted_ to be angry, to shout at Harry about the unfairness of it all. After all, Harry had ended things, and yet here he was, looking hotter than he had any right to, stripping as if it were perfectly normal, giving Draco that look. The look he always gave Draco before he would slam him up against the nearest hard surface and fuck him senseless. The look that never failed to make Draco’s legs weak and his cock hard.

“Potter,” Draco said a moment later, finally regaining his senses. Harry raised an eyebrow at that, tossing the leather arm protector before he pulled off his sweaty jersey and tossed it behind him, standing there, shirtless in front of Draco then. His tan skin glistening in the unforgiving lights of the Arrow’s locker room.  _Only_ Potter could look sexy in such a light. Draco swallowed, letting his eyes drag down Harry’s toned, hairy chest. He longed to run his fingers through the coarse hair there. To drag his tongue through it down to Harry’s thick cock. Draco shuddered, sometimes he could still taste him, or feel the weight of Harry on his tongue. It was distracting, as was the piercing look the man was giving him.

“Gods you’re sexy,” Harry said, at last. Draco glared.

“Fuck you,” he growled. Harry smiled, slamming his hands on either side of Draco’s head, boxing him back against the lockers.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Harry whispered in his ear. Draco hissed, turning away from Harry’s face then, Harry leaned in, burying his nose in Draco’s throat, nipping on the spot just below his ear that made Draco wild. Draco whimpered. Harry sucked on his throat, digging his fingers into Draco’s waist, dragging him closer so their clothed erections ground together. Draco gasped, writhing against Harry. The raven-haired man grinned against Draco’s throat.

“Always so responsive. Tell me, does  _Goldstein_  make you moan like this?” Harry asked, nipping at Draco’s ear, and slipping his hand down the front of Draco’s trousers.

“Fuck you,” Draco growled, almost breathless. He wanted to yell, to cry and scream, and tell Harry he couldn’t do this to him! He couldn’t just break up with him and then the  _second_ he found happiness with someone else, come back into Draco’s life to fuck him and destroy everything. But the truth was, Goldstein,  _didn’t_ give this to him. No man had  _ever_ made Draco quiver with a single touch like Harry could. Nor had they made him shudder with a single stare, or make him want to drop to his knees from just a few words hissed into his ear. No man could light the spark of desire in Draco quite like Harry had.  _Damn him._

Harry growled, pinning Draco’s arms above his head. “Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Harry growled. 

Draco glared. “I hate you,” he spat.

“You don’t need to like me to want me to fuck you,” Harry replied.

Draco snorted, shoving Harry off of him then. “Fuck you, Potter.”

“Suit yourself,” Harry said with a shrug, walking towards the shower.

“No, you don’t get to just walk away again!” Draco growled, grabbing his arm. “What the fuck happened to you?” Draco demanded.

“Sorry?”

“Where do you get off cornering me in your locker room, acting like you can just  _fuck_ me after you’re the one who broke up with me?”

Harry laughed then. “You came here,” he said. “You sought  _me_ out. If you didn’t want to get fucked, why did you bother coming here?”

“Are you kidding me?” Draco demanded incredulously. “You’re unbelievable Potter.” Draco shook his head. He didn’t know why he’d come here, but he knew it had been a mistake. The man Draco had fallen in love with all those years ago was long gone, and in his place was a man Draco didn’t recognize. Draco sighed, shaking his head. “This was a mistake. Enjoy your life Potter,” Draco said, and with that, he walked away, on his own terms. He would  _not_ cry over Potter again, he promised himself.  _Never, again,_ he thought as he apparated away.


	16. Harry's Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A HS AU based on Silverfanart's comic of Draco wearing Harry's letterman jacket. Fluff, light angst.

Draco could feel the eyes of every student on him as he walked through the halls of Hogwarts High.  _What the bloody hell was I thinking?_ Draco thought, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. He could hear whispers all around him,  _Is that Malfoy? In Potter’s jacket?_

_Oh, bloody hell._ Draco groaned, his face burning crimson. There was nothing for it now, everyone had already seen him and he had no doubt that by lunch everyone in the school would know, if not sooner. Draco let out a breath as he made his way towards his locker trying to suppress the growing fear in his chest. Head held high, Draco pushed his way through the crowd. He was a Malfoy after all, even if Harry  _had_ done it to embarrass him. Logically Draco was certain that didn’t make sense. He and Harry had been dating for several months now, hell Harry had come to his house to study. Or at least, that’s what they’d told Draco’s parents. In the end, Harry had spent more time snogging Draco senseless on top of his bed than either of them had spent studying. Then Harry had left his jacket behind when he’d left just before dinner. Draco had considered simply stuffing it into his backpack that morning and handing it to him later, but something about the letterman jacket had called out to him.  _What could it hurt?_ He thought, slipping the jacket on before he got into his car and drove himself to school. If either of his parents had noticed the jacket with another boy’s name on it, neither of them commented on it.

Now, as Draco nervously made his way to his locker he was starting to feel as though he’d made a big mistake when he caught sight of the familiar thatch of messy black hair. Draco could barely contain the rage that spiked through him then. Harry was smiling, smirking more like, looking rather proud of himself, and Draco had half a mind to go right up to him and give him what for. It had clearly been a prank and Draco was going to throw the jacket right in his face and—

“You wore it,” Harry said giving Draco a grin. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Harry looked so incredibly happy to see him in his jacket that every argument he had died on his lips immediately. “I hoped you would.”

Draco stared at his boyfriend incredulously, “You did?” he asked. Harry grinned, offering his arm to Draco. Draco looked around the halls, all eyes were still on them, but Harry didn’t seem to have noticed. Swallowing, Draco slipped his arm into Harry’s.

“Of course,” Harry whispered into his ear. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.” Draco swallowed his mouth suddenly dry as Harry escorted him to his first period. For the rest of the day, Draco held tight to Harry’s jacket. It smelled like Harry, Draco realized, and though he’d never admit it, it almost felt like he was protected by Harry’s jacket. Like no one could possibly make fun of him as long as he had Harry with him. No one would dare make fun of the captain of the football team’s boyfriend. Draco grinned, smugly, suddenly feeling very powerful. 


	17. Are You My Other Father?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, after Astoria's death, Harry comes around a lot and Scorpius begins to wonder can Harry be his new father? Based on an art post from Mad1492

In the days and weeks after Astoria’s untimely death, Harry Potter had become an unexpected fixture in Malfoy Manor, much to Draco’s chagrin. 

“We’re still in mourning here Potter. Now isn’t a really good time,” Draco growled.

“Now Draco, Mr. Potter is a guest here,” Narcissa Malfoy said. “Please, Mr. Potter, won’t you come in?” Harry looked around the Manor nervously. It had been six years since he’d stepped foot in Malfoy Manor, and the last time had hardly been a happy memory.

“Thank you, but I best not,” Harry said with a sigh, taking in Draco’s red-rimmed eyes. “I just wanted to say, I’m terribly sorry for your loss, and to give you this,” Harry handed Draco a bouquet of lilies. Draco stared at the flowers for a long moment, not sure what to say.

“They’re lovely Mr. Potter, thank you,” Narcissa said with a smile.

Harry looked awkwardly between Draco and his mother then. With his hair grown out, he looked so much more like her. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call,” Narcissa nodded, and with that, she closed the door. Draco remained rooted to the spot, still staring at the lilies.

“Bloody  _Saint_ Potter!” he growled suddenly, chucking the lilies onto the floor. Draco stormed off, and made his way across the atrium toward’s Scorpius’s bedroom, willing himself not to break down for the fourth time that day.  _Especially_ not in front of his son.

Less than a week later, Narcissa Malfoy had invited Harry back for tea, to thank him for the flowers.

“I’m sorry my son was, less than grateful,” Narcissa said sipping her tea. Harry shook his head.

“No, no. He’s going through a lot right now. I only wish there was more I could do,” Harry said.

Narcissa smiled softly at Harry. “It’s terribly sweet of you to want to help,” she replied. “I’m afraid there’s nothing any of us can do now.” 

“How long were they together for?”

“Five years,” Draco said from the entrance to the drawing room, glaring at his mother and Harry taking afternoon tea. “It was an arranged marriage, but being I was best friends with Astoria’s sister Daphne, I knew her rather well,” Narcissa sighed, placing her teacup down on the side table gently before she stood and approached her son.

“Draco, I’m warning you. Do not make a scene. Need I remind you that Mr. Potter is an Auror, to whom our family is  _greatly_ indebted. Do you understand me?” she ground out through clenched teeth.

“Is that it then?” Draco shouted over his mother’s shoulder. “Hoping to cash in on your life debt? Well, stuff it, Potter. I’m not doing bloody anything for you!” Draco growled, turning on his heel again and once more storming out of the room.

Narcissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she turned to face Harry. “I’m terribly sorry for my son’s behavior.”

Harry shook his head. “I can’t imagine what he must be going through,” Harry said. “I know he and I weren’t close, but I assure you I’m not here to make trouble.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” she said.

“Please, call me Harry,” Harry replied.

“Then, you must call me, Narcissa,” Narcissa said.

It was less than two weeks later, Draco came home from a short trip to Diagon Alley to sort out some details of his wife’s vault at Gringotts, only to find Harry Potter once again in his home, this time playing with Scorpius in the nursery. Draco glared.

“Why is it every time I come into my home, I seem to find you bothering my family?” Draco demanded, as he bent down and scooped his son up in his arms.

“Daddy, was playing! Put down!” Scorpius bellowed thrashing his arms about. Draco gave his son a firm look.

“Scorpius. You are nearly four now. You know how to speak proper.” Scorpius let out an exasperated huff at that.

“I was playing, please put me down father,” Scorpius replied. Harry’s eyes widened at that, but he said nothing. Draco pursed his lips but did as his son requested. Scorpius ran back over to Harry and plopped down, picking up his dragon figure continuing to play as if nothing had happened. It was all Draco could do not to yell.

“Right, you can play with the hellspawn, I’m getting pissed,” Draco said.

“Not nice daddy,” Scorpius yelled after him.

“But your  _my_ hellspawn,” Draco said sweetly, to which Scorpius giggled. Draco sighed, turning on his heel and made his way down towards the cellar cracking open a bottle of wine and drinking straight from the bottle. It was uncouth, and certainly un-Malfoy, but right now he didn’t want to think about being a Malfoy, hell he didn’t even want to think about being a person. Right now, he wanted to get absolutely shit-faced.

“Drinking straight from the bottle?” Lucius drawled. Draco shot his father a glare.

“I’m planning to obliviate myself of the last bloody month with the help of the Malfoy reserves,” Draco replied.

“And you couldn’t use a glass?” Lucius said.

“I didn’t want anything to get in my way,” Draco replied downing half the bottle. “I figured a glass would just slow me down.”

“You know, drinking yourself to death isn’t going to bring her back. And then who will Scorpius have?” Draco glared, chucking the half-finished bottle at his father’s head. The bottle shattered as it collided with the wall.

“Don’t you  _dare_ speak of her!” he bellowed. “You have no idea what this has been like for me! How the hell am I supposed to raise him on my own? I never wanted this! I never wanted any of this, and now it’s all on me!” he screamed, falling to his knees and sobbed. Lucius sighed, approaching his son slowly, wrapping a hand around his shoulder.

Sometime around one in the morning, a very drunk Draco appeared on the doorstep of Number 12 Grimmauld Place and knocked on the black family door knocker.

“Open up Potter you prat! I know you’re in there!” he growled, slamming hard on the knocker again. the door opened a second later, and Draco, who’d been leaning against the door, lost his balance and collapsed into Harry’s arms.

“Still drunk then?” Harry asked, helping Draco to his feet.

“Why the hell are you bothering me?” Draco demanded.

“I believe you’re the one who showed up on my doorstep, pissed out of your mind banging on the door at one am,” Harry replied coolly.

“No no no, I mean why have you been coming to my house? Cozying up to my mother, being nice to my father. My bloody father!” Draco snorted. “You  _hate_ my father. And trust me, Potter, the feeling is mutual. Trying to get Scorpius to love you, like the perfect little saint Potty you are. So what’s that about huh? Is my life not sufficiently in the toilet for you? You have to try and ruin it some more?” Harry sighed, not sure what to say to that. “Was losing my wife not bad enough… the mother of my child, now you come by to what exactly?”

“Offer my condolences. And see if you need any help,” Harry said softly.

“WHY?” Draco yelled. “Since when do you bloody care about me?” he was nearly in tears then. “Since when…” he shook his head. “We’re not friends,” he growled.

“And who’s fault was that?” Harry asked.

“YOURS!” Draco yelled. “If you’d just accepted my bloody hand that day. Instead of the fucking Weasel’s we could have avoided all of this!” Draco said gesturing wildly about the room. “But no! You had to be the golden boy. The one whom everybody loved. Even my fucking family. Now I have nothing. My name is a joke, my family is in tatters, my son is going to grow up without a mother because of a goddamn curse and you keep coming around trying to drive me insane,” Draco said, tears streaming down his face. It was all too much for him. 

“I didn’t realize I was such a burden.”

“Oh stop being such a martyr Potter!” Draco growled.

“What do you want from me?” Harry demanded.

“I want to know why! I want to know what it is you think you’re dong coming to my home day after day! I want to know how I’m supposed to raise my son alone! How I’m supposed to make sure he’s okay because I don’t know how to do this by myself! I want to know  _why_ I did EVERYTHING my father wanted and everything I could to make our family name better and I was still punished! I’ve spent  _years_  making retributions. Paying for orphanages, and trying to undo the damage my family did during the war and it amounted to NOTHING!” Draco sniffed hard. “You tell me that Potter. You tell me why everything in my life has fallen apart and what the fuck I’m supposed to do about it.”

Harry looked at Draco seriously then, the only other time he had seen Draco this broken was during their sixth year, in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, and things had not gone well then. Harry sighed, crossing the small space between them and pulled Draco into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. For a moment it seemed as though Draco might resist, but the weight of his pain mixed with the copious amount of alcohol he’d consumed had drained his will to fight, so instead Draco allowed himself to sob on Harry’s shoulder. Neither one speaking, just holding on to each other.

After that, Harry’s presence had become a more welcome one in Malfoy Manor, though neither he nor Draco ever spoke of Draco’s drunken breakdown again. After several months of this, Draco found himself considerably more comfortable in Harry’s presence. Many a night they had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, discussing their lives after the war. What they had wanted for themselves.

“Seems like you got most everything you wanted Potter,” Draco said.

Harry sighed. “Not everything. Things didn’t work out with me and Gin so I ended up giving up, on the whole, getting married and having kids dream. My job is my family,” Harry said without a hint of irony.

Draco snorted. “Yeah well, trust me. Getting married and having kids wasn’t exactly my dream,” he admitted.

“Oh?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my son,” Draco said. “And Astoria was… well like a sister to me. She was my best friend in the end. Hell, my only friend. She was the only one who saw the real me, and didn’t judge me for it,” he said quietly.

“And what is the real you?” Harry asked.

“A pureblood wizard who would much prefer the company of other wizards,” Draco admitted with a snort. Harry stared at Draco for a long moment then.

“Really?”

“Oh don’t act so surprised. I know the rumors that were going around about me,” Draco said with a huff. “The sad thing is, they were right. But I wasn’t brave like Dean and Seamus. I couldn’t just be gay. I had an heir to produce, a family name to uphold,” he snorted. “For all the good it did me. I wouldn’t trade Scorpius for the world but… I would give almost anything to be able to live my life on my terms you know?” Harry nodded, he couldn’t stop staring at Draco, there was a part of him, a surprisingly large part that wanted, desperately to kiss him. To hold him in his arms and assure him that everything would be okay. Harry sighed softly, remaining firmly in his seat.

Several months later, with Harry becoming Scorpius’s unofficial babysitter, Draco found himself in the nursery with Harry, preparing to put Scorpius down for a nap when Scorpius blurted out, “Is Harry, my second daddy, now?” Scorpius looked expectantly up at Harry then, who looked rather sheepishly at Draco. Draco opened his mouth to speak but for the life of him, nothing would come out. Harry smiled down at Scorpius.

“How would you feel if I did? Ask your father out I mean?” Scorpius beamed excitedly.

“YEAH!” he yelled. Harry looked nervously up at Draco then. Draco couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. There was something about the way Harry had always looked playing with his son that had made Draco’s heart melt.

“How could I possibly say no?” Draco replied. Harry grinned, kissing Scorpius’s cheek then.

“Now daddy. Kiss daddy,” Scorpius yelled excitedly. Draco blushed crimson as Harry leaned across them and softly gave Draco a kiss on the cheek. Scorpius squealed with excitement. Draco smiled.

“It’s time for you to get to bed my little scorpion,” Draco said, lifting Scorpius up and placing him on his bed.

“Will you and Harry read me a story?” Scorpius asked with a yawn. Draco smiled at Harry.

“I would love too,” Harry said, and just like that, Draco’s life was finally starting to look up, and become his own.


	18. Like A Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is a demon, Draco is an angel. Harry is determined to make the angel fall. Soft core smut implied. Based on art by Ano-ka-ba

It had started as a challenge from Lucifer himself, to corrupt one of heaven’s most loyal.  _Piece of cake,_ Harry had thought. Never knowing the addictive powers of angel flesh, and how willing Harry would find himself, to forsake his own world, to have Draco all to himself. 

* * *

Draco was an angel fallen. He knew the punishment for consorting with a demon, and yet, Harry was like the forbidden fruit. Tempting, dangerous, and incredibly alluring. Every time the demon’s lips caressed his own, or he hissed obscenities into the angel’s ear, promises of all the things he would do to him as Draco writhed against him, clutching onto the demon tight, never wanting to let go. It was ecstasy, and Draco would forsake everything in the end, if it meant enjoying the demon’s touch for even just a moment.

“Don’t we look pretty,” Harry said appearing behind the angel then, in the middle of the forest. Vanishing from heaven had proved difficult, but the moment he had smelled that first whiff of brimstone that signaled the demon’s arrival, Draco had known he had to leave. Living amongst the mortals was not without its dangers, but no glory of heaven held any appeal quite like his demon did.

Draco turned, piercing onyx eyes stared back at him, and Draco couldn’t help but melt. “Such a pretty little angel,” Harry said as he approached, stalking Draco like a tiger would its prey. He would pounce at any moment, and Draco  _knew_ he would let him,  _for how could he possibly refuse._

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, pulling the angel close to himself then, and kissed him hard on the lips, rough and claiming. It was all Draco could do not to moan as the demon plundered his mouth. Draco gasped. “You are mine, angel,” the demon growled against his skin. Draco groaned, arching his back, wrapping his arm around the demon’s neck as he wrapped his leg around Harry’s waist.

“Yes,” Draco whispered like a prayer. Harry gripped the back of Draco’s neck with one hand, holding on to his ass with the other, kissing down the angel’s throat then.

“Let me worship you, my angel,” the demon whispered, sucking hard on Draco’s throat. “So that I may be worshiped in return.”

Draco moaned, “Anything for you my lord,” he said. The demon grinned, gripping the angel’s ass tighter then. Their clothing vanished, and just like that, the angel’s fall was ensured. 


	19. Draco's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and smut, a fight in the 8th year common room takes a turn

Draco glared, his face mere inches away from Harry’s, as they stood in the 8th year common room, they’d been fighting again. Weasley had made a crack about Lucius’s father being in prison and Draco had walked straight across the room and punched Weasley square in the nose.

“DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY FATHER AGAIN!” Draco yelled. Pansy and Blaise had pulled Draco off of Ron then, with some amount of effort, which had led to a spectacular row between himself and Harry in which Draco had informed Potter to mind his own fucking business, while Potter had shouted he couldn’t just attack his friends.

“He bloody started it,” Draco had argued. Now they were here, in this sort of stalemate in which neither one moved merely glaring at one another, green eyes, staring down grey. Draco snorted, turning away from Harry then, chest heaving as he stormed out of the common room towards the bedroom he was forced to share with Potter. All apart of McGonagall’s bloody inter-house unity tripe.  _I should never have come back here,_ Draco thought to himself, feeling totally defeated.  _This was a mistake,_ he was near in tears, as he looked around at his trunk that he’d barely bothered unpacking. He could just leave.He was an adult now, and even  _with_  his NEWTS, he doubted anyone would hire him, not after all his family had done. Draco sighed, tears burning at the corners of his eyes as he walked towards his bed and threw himself onto it, slamming the curtains shut. A moment later, the door opened and slammed shut and he could hear Potter pacing their shared bedroom. Draco wiped his eyes, willing his tears to go away, just waiting for Potter to confront him again.

As if on cue, his curtains ripped open and Potter stood there, staring at him. “Are you… crying?” Harry asked.

Draco glared, “What the fuck do you want Potter? Haven’t you and your sodding friends done enough?” Harry frowned at that. “Haven’t you, and the Ministry, and your golden gang taken enough from me?” Draco hadn’t meant to say all of that, but once it had started it was like the dam had burst and Draco could no longer stop himself. “As if it wasn’t bad enough that my father was hauled away to Azkaban, and our house was taken from us,” he was fully sobbing now, in front of Harry Potter, again.  _Maybe he’d get lucky and Harry would pull a Sectumsempra on him again_ , Draco thought morosely. “My mother’s been out of her mind worrying about me, the Ministry gives me this  _laughable_ sentence. Go back to Hogwarts, finish your NEWTS, get a job and prove you can be a proper upstanding member of society as if anyone would bloody hire me.”

Harry was staring, and Draco wanted to scream, there was a look in his eyes that looked suspiciously like pity, that Draco wanted to punch out of the other boy before it was too late.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry said.

Draco snorted, “Don’t you  _dare_ pity me Potter!” he growled. “I can put up with all the taunts and bullshit your Gryffindor lot can throw at me, but don’t you DARE, pity me!” Harry shook his head, moving closer to Draco then. Draco eyed Harry. “What are you…” but before Draco could finish, Harry had closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together, in a hard and punishing kiss. Draco gasped. Harry climbed on top of him, pinning his arms above his head as he straddled Draco, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Draco moaned, arching up into Harry then. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d needed this until it was here, writhing in his lap, Harry’s clothed erection grinding against Draco’s own. Draco gasped, grinding up against Harry more, trying to get some amount of friction.

“Gods, your so hot when you’re angry,” Harry whispered against his lips, grinding into him more.

Draco glared, “Shut up and fuck me, Potter,” he growled. Harry moaned against his lips, pulling off his shirt then, kissing down Draco’s chest.

“So beautiful,” Harry purred.

Draco growled, grabbing Harry’s tie to pull him so they were face to face, “Fuck me, Potter. Not make love to me and tell me how gorgeous I am, I’m in possession of a mirror,” he said pulling off his trousers and pants. “I want you to fuck me. Hard, and rough, and merciless. I want you to pound into me so hard I forget everything but your name, and so I can’t walk properly for a week, think you can manage that?” Harry nodded, blushing slightly as he took off his shirt quickly. Draco rolled onto his stomach, arching his back as he waited. “You’re not a virgin are you Potter? Because I’m really not in the mood to have to teach tonight,” Draco added after a moment.

“No,” Harry replied. “Not, not a virgin.”

“Good,” Draco spread his legs then, and it was all Harry could do not to drool.  _Gods but Draco was beautiful._ Summoning a bottle of lube, and coating his fingers in it. Harry swallowed, letting his eyes roam over the beautiful planes of Draco’s pale, lithe form. “Chop chop Potter, I haven’t got all…” his words were quickly cut off as Harry leaned down, biting hard on the back of Draco’s neck, simultaneously shoving two fingers into Draco’s tight hole.

“Such a smart mouth. Perhaps we should find a better use for it,” Harry said, he was kneeling in such a way that his cock was directly in Draco’s eye line. Draco shuddered, staring unabashedly at it. His mouth wide, Harry  _knew_ Draco wanted it. Smirking, Harry pulled his Gryffindor tie off and stuffed it into Draco’s mouth, hissing in his ear. “Only if your good, do you get a taste of this cock Malfoy,” Draco whined around the tie in his mouth, bucking back into Harry’s fingers as they slowly teased his entrance. He was so tight, and hot, and Harry  _needed_ to bury himself inside that arse. He’d been wanting it for months now, and now that he was finally getting the chance he wanted nothing more than to savor it. Draco let out a whine, bucking against the sheets, and Harry exhaled a breath.

“So impatient,” he pulled out his wand, “Incarcerous,” he whispered, tying Draco’s arms above his head. Draco whimpered, and Harry whispered in his ear. “Want me to stop?” Draco shook his head hard, and Harry smiled, kissing the back of his neck, moving behind Draco to line himself up. Slicking his cock with lube, Harry pushed himself inside the blond, eliciting a muffled moan from around the tie. Harry groaned loud as he bottomed out inside Draco, his balls touching Draco’s thighs. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Harry said. Draco whined, bucking back against Harry. 

Harry chuckled, spanking Draco’s arse hard, eliciting a groan from the blond. “Shall I fuck you then?” Harry whispered into his ear? Draco nodded, frantically, and Harry smiled, kissing Draco’s neck, sliding out then slamming back in, rough, and punishing. Draco screamed around the tie in his mouth, something that sounded suspiciously like Harry. Harry grinned at the thought, pulling out again and slamming back into the blond. Over and over again. Harder and harder, sucking on Draco’s neck as he fucked into him with all he had, one arm wrapped around Draco’s chest, as his other hand gripped Draco’s hips tight, “Fuck, so tight. I’m so close,” Harry said.  _Wanted this for so long,_ he thought. Draco’s hand wrapped around Harry’s thigh pulling him closer, and it was all Harry could do not to come from that one small seemingly intimate act.

And then he heard it again, a very distinct, whine of  _Harry,_ and he felt the walls of Draco’s arse spasm around his cock. Draco had come without even being touched. Harry groaned at the mental image that gave him, coming hard inside of Draco with a shout. Harry shuddered, falling to the side of Draco’s bed, pulling out of the blond as he did so, instantly missing the tight heat. His bones felt heavy, and his muscles ached from being so overworked, but it had been worth it.  _Gods, Draco was even hotter in bed than he was almost anywhere else,_ Harry thought. Though he couldn’t say he was surprised. Flicking his hand in Draco’s direction the invisible restraints vanished, and the tie came out of his mouth. Draco turned on him, his eyes cold.

“Get out,” he growled.

Harry looked up at Draco, “Can’t move, too sated,” he replied, his eyes drooping closed.

Draco glared, “I’m going to bed Potter. Now get out of my bed!” Harry sighed, forcing himself to sit up. Climbing over Draco, and out of the bed. Harry turned, about to ask Draco when they could do it again, but Draco had snapped his curtains shut, and Harry sighed, feeling distinctly as though he’d done something wrong somewhere as he made his way over to his bed.

* * *

Draco’s heart was still racing.  _What have I done?_ He thought. He was already engaged to Astoria, their wedding was set for the next fall, and he had let Harry Potter bugger him into the mattress, and worse still he’d liked it. Correction, he’d  _loved_ it. The feel of Potter’s cock dragging over his prostate had been the greatest feeling of his life, and he wanted nothing more than to ride Potter’s cock again and again and again, feeling it filling him up in so many ways, until Draco was a writhing mess, begging Potter to let him come. To touch him. It was all he could do not to sob, at the thought, for he knew, he could never have Potter again.


	20. Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an ask for Praise Kink Drarry. Smut ensues between Auror Potter and Auror Malfoy

“Merlin you’re so beautiful,” Harry moaned against Draco’s throat, he was balls deep inside the blond, fucking him on his desk in their shared office in the DMLE. Draco moaned loud at that, arching off the desk, towards Harry. “Hmm, like that? Like when I tell you how beautiful you are? How amazingly  _tight_ your arse is, how I love the feel of it wrapped around my cock?”

“Harry,” Draco whined, as the raven-haired man thrust into him, torturously slowly.

“So hot, so good for me aren’t you Draco?” he hissed in his ear.

“Yesss,” Draco hissed. Harry grinned, sucking on Draco’s pale throat.

“You like when I claim you like that? Making sure  _everyone_ can see who you belong to?” Harry growled.

“Yes Harry, fuck me, yes,” he shuddered, bucking back into Harry trying to make him go faster.

“So eager for me kitten.”

Draco moaned low in his throat, whining, while Harry took his time, kissing over Draco’s flesh, his back, as far as he could go without pulling out of the blond.

“Please Harry,” Draco whined.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me,” Draco begged. “Please, need your cock so bad,” Draco whined.

Harry smiled. “Poor beautiful kitten. I suppose I’ve tortured you long enough,” he said, and with that, he slammed into Draco, hard, and fast. Setting a punishing pace as he fucked into the blond. Draco whimpered, meeting Harry thrust for thrust, writhing against the hard wood of his desk as Harry pounded into him. “Gods you look so hot like this. All debauched. I just want to spend  _hours_ buried in that tight arse,” he punctuated this with a spank that made Draco whine. “Ooh, you like that too? Gods, how are you so utterly perfect, taking everything I give you?”

Draco moaned low. “Harry,” he whined. “Please, I’m so close.  _Please_ let me come.”

“You beg so beautifully,” Harry replied, kissing him softly then, then whispered in his ear. “Come for me kitten,” Draco moaned, coming hard across the desk as Harry continued pumping into him. He groaned, the walls of Draco’s arse shuddering around him as he came. It was almost enough to drag his own orgasm from him, but he was enjoying the feeling of thrusting into the blond who had given up holding himself up, laying almost boneless on the desk, offering only periodic whimpers as Harry hit his prostate. “Gods I’m gonna fill you up so good Draco,” Harry moaned into his ear. “You want that kitten? Want me to fill you up?” Draco moaned, and Harry came.

It was delicious and debauched, and far more filthy than Harry had ever expected from Draco. He shuddered, pulling out then, and readjusted his pants and trousers before offering a small kiss to the small of Draco’s back, and fixing his own pants. “Don’t bother with a cleaning spell,” Harry said. “I want you to go into our meeting with Robbards, still smelling of me with my come still up your arse.” Draco shuddered. “Then after work, if you’re  _really_ good, I’ll eat it out of you.”

“Fuck,” Draco moaned, pulling up his trousers then, and searching the room for his discarded Auror robe. “Whoever knew the golden boy was so kinky,” Draco said.

“Less golden these days,” Harry replied with a wink.

“Not much of a boy either,” Draco noted taking in the thick black beard, and Harry’s well-toned body. Auror training had served him well. Whereas Draco had remained lean and stealthy, Harry had bulked up considerably, becoming, to Draco’s mind, a walking wet dream of pure muscle that could easily throw him about the room, and apparently call Draco  _beautiful, and kitten,_ dragging the hardest orgasm from him he’d experienced in the last five years at least.  _Fuck,_ he thought.  _He was so screwed._


	21. Will you Marry Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on an ask for post-Drarry proposal sex. Smuty smut smut smut.

“Draco,” Harry said, kneeling on one knee, all around him Draco could hear gasps, as his friends and family looked on. Harry pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal the Black Family engagement ring that had been passed down through nine generations of Black women to now come to him. “These last few months we’ve been together, have been the most wonderful times of my life. And even though we didn’t have the easiest beginning, I know that this is always where we were meant to end up. I love you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. Will you marry me?”

Draco gasped, as he stared at Harry, tears welling up in his eyes then, “Yes, Harry,” he said, wrapping his arms around the dark-haired man, kissing him hard on the lips. Harry beamed, slipping the ring onto Draco’s finger, as the two stood to thunderous applause, and kissed. It was everything Draco had ever wanted in a 27th birthday party. “I’ve got one more surprise for you,” Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. “As soon as we get the house to ourselves.”

Draco groaned, “Mmm, how soon can you kick them out?” he purred.

Harry laughed. “I think it’s polite to stay so everyone can congratulate us,” Harry told him.

Draco sighed, “You’ll have to make it up to me then, won’t you?” he purred.

Harry smirked, kissing Draco’s lips softly, “I  _can_ definitely do that,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Draco said as his parents approached the two of them to offer their congratulations first.

Narcissa kissed Draco’s cheek, smiling at her son, tears dripping down her cheeks. “My beautiful baby boy. I am so incredibly proud of you,” she said.

“Thank you mother,” Draco replied. Lucius stood in front of his son, a soft smile on his lips that Draco hadn’t expected.

“I confess when you first began dating Potter I had my doubts. I was convinced there was no way he was good enough for you, but, he’s proven me wrong, and I will be proud to call you my son-in-law,” Lucius said holding out his hand for Harry. Harry smiled, shaking it, and Draco watched, feeling rather impressed. 

His mother and father were quickly replaced by Pansy and Blaise. “Congratulations darling,” Pansy said, wrapping her arms around Draco’s middle as Blaise and Harry exchanged pleasantries. “And you,” Pansy said turning to Harry. “Take care of him. Because if I ever find out you’ve hurt him, just know I’ll make the Dark Lord look like a kitten.”

Harry smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Pansy kissed Harry on the cheek then as Blaise hugged Draco.

“Good luck,” he said.

“You act like I’m going up against a lion,” Draco snorted.

“Aren’t you?” Blaise asked with a raise of his brow.

“Oh hush you.” Draco chuckled as his friends took off, and Molly, Arthur, and the entire Weasley clan came up to them now.

“As one of my children you understand I’m very protective of Harry,” Molly said, as she held Draco tight. “But you also understand that whatever animosity existed between your family and ours, is water under the bridge, because you are  _just_ as much my son as Harry is.” Draco tried to hold back tears at that, as Molly wrapped him in a hug.

“Now now Molly, let him breathe,” Arthur said having congratulated Harry. Molly sniffed, kissing Draco’s cheek before Arthur smiled at Draco. “Congratulations my boy,” he said. Draco smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” he replied.

Ron and Hermione followed, both hugging and congratulating Harry in turn. Hermione was the first to hug Draco.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered.

“Thanks, Ms. Granger. Or should I call you Mrs. Weasley now?” Draco chuckled. The two had become fast friends during their eighth year, much to the surprise of almost everyone. Hermione laughed, waving him off.

“Hermione is more than fine.”

“I much prefer the formality,” Draco said. Hermione chuckled, and Ron took a deep breath, before giving Draco a hard look.

“Like my mum said, you’re part of the family now,” he said offering Draco a short hug. Surprised, Draco almost didn’t hug back, until a few moments later, after which he’d realized what was happening and offered Ron a hug in return. The Weasley’s were later replaced by several Aurors, and the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

Draco sighed, feeling utterly exhausted by the time the last of their guests had vanished via the floo, leaving Harry and Draco  _finally,_ alone. Draco smiled laying his head on Harry’s shoulder with a yawn.

“No going to sleep yet,” Harry said as he turned to face his fiancé, kissing his lips. Draco moaned against him.

“It’s been a very long evening,” Draco said.

“I know, and I’m sorry. But I  _did_ promise to make it up to you.”

Draco grinned, as Harry walked them upstairs towards their bedroom, laying Draco out on their silver sheets, climbing on top of him. “Gods I love you. I can’t believe we’re engaged,” Harry said, as he kissed Draco’s lips again. Draco grinned up at him.

“You’re stuck with me now Potter,” he teased.

“Only too happy to be,” Harry replied, kissing down Draco’s neck. Draco groaned.

“Such a sap.”

“A sap who’s your fiancé,” Harry corrected. Draco laughed.

“How on earth did you convince mother to give you the Black ring?” Draco asked.

“Your mother has never been able to say no to me. Or  _you_ for that matter.”

Draco laughed at that. “Fair point.”

“So beautiful. I can’t wait to be able to call you my husband,” he unbuttoned Draco’s shirt, kissing down his chest then. “My beautiful,” kiss. “Amazing,” kiss. “Talented,” kiss. “Husband.” Harry punctuated each word with a soft kiss to Draco’s chest, causing the blond to squirm.

“Harry,” he hissed.

“Yes my love?” Harry replied.

“Please,” Draco begged. Harry nodded, pulling off the last of his clothes, and held Draco close, flipping them over so Draco was on top.

“I want you to ride me, baby. Nice and slow,” Harry said. Draco shuddered, summoning a bottle of lube and slicking up Harry’s cock. Lining it up with his entrance, Draco sank down, taking it inch, by inch until he was fully seated in Harry’s lap and let out a long, loud, moan. “So beautiful,” Draco slid back up Harry’s length, trying to move slowly per Harry’s request, but it felt so good. Harry was so thick and felt so incredibly full inside him and Draco just wanted to ride him harder and deeper, taking Harry all the way down, dragging his orgasm from him with a scream as he fucked himself on Harry’s cock.

Harry held Draco close, kissing his lips as he met Draco’s thrusts, “So perfect for me. All for me,” Draco nodded.

“Only for you Harry. Always for you.”

Harry moaned, “Draco, oh gods I love you so much.”

Draco smiled, barely able to contain his tears of happiness, burying his face in Harry’s neck. “I love you too,” he said.


	22. The Bachelorette Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on an ask for Drarry bed sharing. Smut. Pansy and Hermione invite Harry and Draco for their bachelorette party, but there's a catch. There's only one bed in their room for them to share.

* * *

Draco Malfoy glared at the singular bed in the room he was expected to share with Potter.  _Of bloody course._ “Right,” Draco turned on his heel, leaving the hotel room. _Bloody Granger and her bloody bachelorette party, renting out several rooms in some Muggle Hotel in Paris._ Draco thought.

“I’m so sorry Draco, they assured me the room had two beds,” Hermione called after him, as he stormed down the hall towards the front desk, speaking in rapid-fire French with the concierge. Were this any other time, Harry, who had just arrived himself would have been impressed with Draco’s ability to converse so seamlessly with the woman, as it was, Draco looked murderous and he supposed now wasn’t the time to ogle the blond. Draco growled as he stormed over to where Harry and Hermione now stood.

“She says there are no more rooms,” he said through clenched teeth. “Right. Where’s your fiancé,” he said rounding on Hermione then. “I want my wand.”

“You know what she’ll say,” Hermione told him. “This is  _our_ weekend, we agreed, no magic.”

Draco growled, “Fine, Potter, you’re sleeping on the bloody floor,” Draco said and with that, he swept out of the room leaving Harry and Hermione staring after the seething blond.

“Remind me again why you and Pansy think this is such a great idea?” Harry asked.

Hermione smiled kissing Harry’s cheek. “Draco is a lot of things, but blind is not one of them, besides Pansy’s made it quite clear how he feels. The  _only_ reason he’s angry at all is because, he’s afraid of what it’ll mean if you have to share a bed. Trust me, the second you step out of the shower in just a towel I’m sure he’ll be all over you.”

“Isn’t this a little devious?”

“How exactly were you  _almost_ a Slytherin again?” Pansy asked folding her arms across her chest, as she stood beside her fiancé.

Harry glowered, “Obviously I wasn’t!”

“Precisely, because if you were smart enough to be devious about it, you would have gotten Draco a lot sooner than now,” she shook her head. “Honestly you Gryffindors, must  _we_ do everything?” Pansy smiled turning to Hermione and offered her a soft kiss.

“It’s so hot when you take charge,” Hermione purred, wrapping her arms around Pansy’s neck. Pansy grinned and Harry gagged.

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” he said.

“Yes bugger off Potter. But do remember, if you knock Draco up, Lucius will demand you marry him,” she said with a laugh as Harry walked down the hall, flipping Pansy two fingers as he made his way towards his and Draco’s room.

Harry sighed, it was a nice enough room, with a king sized bed, a considerable television, and a lovely dresser and a refrigerator off to the side. Moreover, it had a beautiful view of Paris, despite the fact they were inexplicably on the ground floor. Draco was sitting on the bed, with his head buried in a book.

Harry looked around frowning as he realized there was not a table or chair in the room meaning the only place to sit was the bed. “Did this place double as a torture chamber during the French Revolution?” Harry commented as he stood awkwardly near the door.

“Clearly,” Draco said not looking up from his book. Despite his insistence that Harry should sleep on the floor, he had kept himself remarkably to the left side of the bed, leaving a large portion of the right side closest to the bathroom completely open for Harry. Harry swallowed debating whether it would be worth the row to sit down when Draco spoke again. “You going to just stand there, or are you going to sit down?” he snapped. Harry swallowed and walked over to the bed, and took a seat carefully beside Draco, kicking off his shoes.  

“This is nice…”

“We’re not doing this, Potter,” Draco said using his finger as a bookmark and looking up at Harry at last. “We’re not going to make unpleasant small talk simply because we’re expected to share a bed and a room because Pansy’s got it in her head to try enjoying the muggle side of things for her fiancé. We are not friends, we are acquaintances at best brought together by the cruel twist of fate that is the fact our best friends are getting married in three days.”

Harry sighed, as Draco went back to his book. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but then he wasn’t sure why he was surprised, Draco was nothing if not reluctant to share his feelings. “We  _could_ be friends you know,” he said quietly.

Draco snorted, “Potter what in our illustrious history has given you the impression that we could  _ever_ manage a friendship without killing one another?”

“There’s a first time for everything. We’ve worked together a number of times quite well.”

“Shockingly having something to distract from the fact that we loathe each other’s existence tends to help matters,” Draco said.

“I don’t hate you Draco. I don’t think I ever really did. You were an easy place to vent a lot of my frustrations, but,  _hate?_ ” Harry shook his head.

“Who gave you permission to use my given name?” Draco said, closing his book again. The two shared a look and Draco sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Harry considered how truthful he could afford to be then. If he told Draco the truth would he accept it? Would he believe that Harry had discovered sometime after the war that his obsession with Draco Malfoy was less about figuring out what the blond was up to and more about trying to figure out  _why_ he couldn’t stop thinking about him? He had never admitted it to anyone but on more than one occasion, Harry had found himself waking up from very elicit dreams that involved a certain blond. He had tried to push it out of his head thinking that perhaps it was just his desire to figure out what Malfoy was up to, but it was clear now, more clear than it had ever been that it was not simply a desire to prove he was a Death Eater, but an insatiable need to  _have_ the blond.

There was no one Harry had slept with in the years that followed who wasn’t blond, and impossibly sassy, spoiled, and yet, none of them were Draco. None of them possessed that spark that could light a fire under Harry faster than almost anything else. “Because I find you improbably charming,” he admitted. “Granted, you’re a handful at the best of times, and admittedly you are a spoiled little shit but apparently that’s rather become my thing in the last few years.” Draco raised an eyebrow at that.  _Harry couldn’t possibly be saying what it sounded like he was saying,_ he thought. There was no Universe in which Draco was  _that_ lucky. “Look I realize you don’t like me, and we’re not friends, but… I’d love it if we could start over. At least for Pansy and Mione’s sake.” Harry said, holding out his hand to Draco. For a long moment, Draco stared at the proffered hand before him, the handshake he’d been denied all those years ago. Without thinking, Draco took Harry’s hand and shook it, once, twice. Then Harry pulled Draco into his lap and kissed him  _hard_ on the lips. Draco gasped. It was searing and delicious, and Draco  _never_ wanted it to end. 

“W-where did that come from?” Draco asked when Harry had pulled away a few moments later.

“I decided to finally take Pansy’s advice,” Harry said with a shrug.

“I should have known she was behind this.”

Harry pressed his lips back to Draco’s, silencing whatever thought he was about to utter just then. Draco moaned against his lips, and Harry used the opportunity to slip his tongue into Draco’s mouth.  _It was finally happening,_ Harry thought, as Draco ground his arse against Harry’s lap.  _Every wanking fantasy and wet dream he’d had about Draco was finally about to come true._ Harry would have to remember to get Pansy something very special for her wedding gift. Possibly the entire hotel, or Cartier’s entire diamond vault. Harry slid his hands down, cupping Draco’s arse through his trousers, as he kissed down Draco’s chin towards his throat. Draco was moaning, his sounds more delicious than  _anything_ Harry could have or had, ever imagined. Draco tasted like spearmint, and expensive cologne and Harry wanted nothing more than to drown in it forever. Slipping his hand into Draco’s trousers, Harry let his fingertips caress the perfect globes of Draco’s arse. So smooth, and soft; Draco panted above him. Harry grinned, staring up at the blond, watching him unravel before his very eyes, just from Harry’s light, teasing touches.

Harry slid his fingers across the cleft of Draco’s arse then, flutter light touches, and Draco was whining. “Harry,” he gasped. Harry couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, kissing against Draco’s throat once more as he teased the blond. Harry had been waiting for this for so long and now that he was  _finally_ allowed to have it, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Teasing Draco, making the blond fall apart at his touch. Bit by delicious bit. Harry’s fingers teased the edge of Draco’s rim, pressing slightly against his hole. Draco writhed on Harry’s lap, begging for Harry to fuck him. Harry pressed a soft kiss to Draco’s chest, waving his hand and vanishing Draco’s clothes. The blond gasped above him, bracing his hands on the headboard of their bed as Harry managed to wandlessly summon lube from his duffel and spread it across his fingers. Slipping down further, Harry laid himself on the bed, so that Draco was kneeling on his chest now, his pale, leaking cock bobbing in front of Harry’s lips. Harry took Draco’s length into his mouth and slipped one of his fingers into Draco’s awaiting hole. Draco cried out from above him. “Harry,” he whined, thrusting into Harry’s mouth, and trying to ride his fingers. “More, please Harry more,” he gasped. Harry slid a second finger into Draco, crooking them both to drag across the blond’s prostate. Draco let out a ragged scream, bucking wildly into Harry’s fingers. Harry smiled around Draco’s cock, swirling his tongue around the head as he finger fucked Draco open. Draco gasped, clutching at the headboard, the wall, anywhere he could find purchase as Harry devoured him.

Harry moaned contentedly and with a strangled cry, Draco came down his throat then. Harry hummed, swallowing down every drop of him, never letting up his pace of thrusting his fingers in and out of Draco’s hole. Draco whined, oversensitive from the stimulation and Harry pulled off his cock with one last lick to the tip. Before Draco could get too comfortable, however, Harry slipped further down, wrapping his hands around Draco’s thighs, and pressing his arse back onto Harry’s face. Draco gasped then as Harry’s tongue thrust up into his slightly loosened hole. “Oh, gods, Harry,” Draco whined ridding his tongue with abandon. Harry hummed, the vibration tickling Draco’s hole and making him hard almost instantly then. “Fuuck, Harry, please. Please fuck me, Harry,” he whined. Harry was only too happy to oblige, but tearing himself away from Draco’s delicious hole seemed a fate worse than death right now, to say nothing of the fact that Harry had teased himself as much as Draco with his actions, and he suspected he wouldn’t last particularly long if he fucked Draco properly now. Yet as the blond whined, beginning for Harry to please fuck him, Harry found he couldn’t really resist such a delicious offer.

* * *

Pansy smirked, as a loud thumping echoed from the wall behind them. “Well that took remarkably less time than I thought it would,” she said smirking to herself. Hermione snorted, shaking her head.

“You’re such a good friend,” she said. “And an even better fiancé.”

“Oh yeah,” Pansy said pulling Hermione into her lap. “I have a few guesses what they’re doing over there, wanna see if we can out scream them?” Hermione moaned then, and Pansy grinned, kissing across her fiancé’s throat. “This is going to be a hell of a weekend,” Pansy said, sliding her hand up Hermione’s skirt, gripping her thigh tight with one hand as her other hand teased across her knickers. 


	23. Can I Kiss You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A smutty story based on another art piece by Ano-ka-ba with Drarry kissing in the kitchen.

Harry grinned staring at Draco’s thigh, licking his lips. It never failed to drive Harry wild to see Draco wearing nothing but one of Harry’s button-down shirts.

“Like what you see Auror Potter?” Draco teased. Harry nodded. “Maybe you should come and do something about it then,” he purred, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist and lifting him up onto the counter. Draco laughed, wrapping his legs around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry asked staring longingly at Draco’s lips. Draco eyed him.

“You can do a lot more than that,” Draco teased. Harry’s hands traveled up Draco’s thighs to his arse, and it was all Draco could do not to moan as he removed Harry’s glasses, pressing their lips together as Harry’s fingers gripped Draco’s arse tight, holding onto him as though he expected Draco to vanish. Draco sighed, as the scruff of Harry’s beard teased across his throat then.

“So beautiful,” Harry moaned against his skin.

Draco shuddered, “What time do you have to be at the office?” he asked.

Harry grinned, kissing his way down Draco’s chest. “I’ve got time,” he promised, swirling his tongue around one of Draco’s nipples. Draco exhaled a shaky breath. Harry removed his wand from his back pocket, depositing it beside Draco’s thigh, then dropped his trousers onto the ground.

“No pants?” Draco asked, staring at Harry’s hard cock. Harry smirked.

“Just the way you like it,” Harry purred, kissing Draco again before he pulled the blond towards him, so he was leaning back against the cabinets, his arse hanging off the counter, his legs still tight around Harry’s waist. “Gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be thinking about me all day,” he purred kissing Draco’s neck,  one last time before he grabbed his wand and flicked it at Draco, prepping him, then slid into the blond in one smooth stroke. Draco hissed, as Harry set up a brutal pace, gripping his hips tight. Draco moaned.

“Harry,” he whined, as Harry slammed him harder against the counter. Harry growled against his throat.

“Fuck, how are you so perfect? So beautiful?”

Draco whined again, as Harry slammed into him. “Please, I’m so close,” he said bracing his arm against the cabinet above his head. Harry purred, snaking his hand between them wrapping it around Draco’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me baby,” Harry purred. Draco whined, coming hard against his chest as Harry fucked him, never stopping. Draco moaned low.

“Harry,” he gasped, and that was all it took, Harry came deep inside the blond, kissing his lips as he held onto him. Harry let out a breath then and kissed Draco’s neck, not pulling out yet.

“I could stay here forever,” Harry purred. “Just buried in that tight little hole.” Draco shuddered, and Harry picked up his wand, twirling it over in his fingers, pointing it at the blond, Draco gasped, as Harry pulled out, his magic filling the spot where Harry’s cock had previously been.

“You are positively filthy Auror Potter,” Draco said as he hopped off the counter.

Harry grinned. “You love it.”

Draco nodded, his legs were shaky and his whole body felt weak save for his arse which was thrumming with Harry’s magic keeping his come inside and simultaneously keeping Draco’s hole open for him. Draco collapsed onto the chair at the kitchen table as Harry moved quickly around the kitchen preparing breakfast for him.  _It was the perfect way to start the day_ , Harry thought.

 


	24. heterochromia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is obsessed with Draco's eyes. Based on a prompt by Bitchin-blonde

Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, they had been dangerously close to fighting again, when Harry had found himself distracted by the other boy’s eyes.

“Were they…. always a different color?” Harry asked, staring breathlessly at the one silver eye and one ice blue. It was a subtle difference and one he wouldn’t have noticed had he not been so close to Draco then. 

“What the bloody hell are you on about Potter?” Draco demanded, glaring.

“Your eyes,” Harry said, staring. Draco shuddered under the raven-haired boy’s scrutiny. “They’re…” he swallowed hard. “Spectacular.”  

Draco snorted, “Potter,” he said, feeling unnerved by Harry’s unblinkingly staring at his eyes. Harry licked his lips. He blinked slowly, worrying his lower lip as if he expected he’d miss something if he looked away from Draco for even a moment. “Potter,” he said again, hoping to sound more firm than he felt, though he could feel whatever resolve he had not to let his crush on Potter ruin his eighth year at Hogwarts dissolving before his eyes. “It’s not even that interesting,” Draco whispered, turning his head away so Harry wouldn’t be able to stare at him in that way of his, driving Draco mad.

“I beg to differ,” Harry said, turning Draco’s head to face him. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful,” Harry said then. Draco swallowed.

“P—Potter,” he gasped.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry said.

“Fuck.” Draco couldn’t stop staring at Harry’s lips, his heart racing in his chest.

“Is that a yes?” Harry asked, leaning in.

“Is this all because of my eyes?” Draco asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“I don’t think so,” Harry admitted. “I may have wanted to do it for some time now.”

“So why have we wasted so much time, fighting?” Draco asked, though he already knew he was as much to blame as Harry was, trying to hide his feelings by fighting with the other boy.

“I don’t know,” Harry said and with that, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Draco’s. Draco melted into the kiss. It was more amazing than he had  _ever_ hoped it would be. Harry was more amazing than Draco had hoped he could be and Draco never wanted the kiss to end. 


	25. Draco's Worst Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a Tumblr ask. Harry dies on an Auror Mission, it destroys Draco. Angst.

Draco Malfoy was shaking,  _it couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible._ Harry couldn’t be dead. He’d defeated the Dark Lord when he was seventeen. How could he possibly be dead at 40? Kingsley Shacklebolt gave him a pitying look that made Draco want to scream. It wasn’t fair. “Goddamn, you son of a bitch!” Draco yelled, slamming his fists against Kingsley’s chest in an effort to make the man feel just as awful as he did now. Tears burned at the edge of Draco’s eyes as he collapsed against the man, feeling as though his entire heart was shattering into a million pieces. “Harry,” he sobbed, gripping Shacklebolt’s robes.

“I’m very sorry,” the Minister said, his voice cracking as he stood, unsure what else to do.

“H—how?” Draco demanded.

“Auror Missions are classified,” Kingsley said, softly.

“BULLSHIT!” Draco growled, tears running down his face as he glared into the Minister’s sad brown eyes. “You look me in the eye and you TELL ME, HOW MY HUSBAND DIED!” Draco yelled.

The Minister took a deep breath, sighing. “I’m very sorry for your loss Mr. Potter,” he said. Draco glared, it took everything in his power not to punch the man, not that he had much to lose. The dementors kiss would be a welcome gift now, he thought. The Minister gave him one last, pitying look before he swept out of the room and apparated away leaving Draco totally alone in their home. Draco screamed, the windows shaking with his magical rage. He wanted nothing more than to make the world pay for this. To burn everything to the ground. “Harry,” he sobbed weakly, collapsing to his knees.

* * *

Draco refused to eat. He had managed by some miracle to drag himself to his and Harry’s bed, holding Harry’s pillow as he buried his face in it and inhaled his scent, sobbing. He had never properly understood the term heartbreak until that exact moment in which it felt like his heart was literally being torn in two.

“Draco?” Pansy’s voice said softly from somewhere behind him. Draco would not look up, however. If he held tight enough to Harry’s pillow and wrapped Harry’s Auror cloak that he’d summoned from the closet tight enough around him, he could almost forget. He had kept himself awake for the last three days with a series of potions, for fear of what would happen if he dared dream. He couldn’t bear the thought of dreaming of Harry. Of forgetting he was gone, only to wake up to feel the crushing loss all over again. “You need to eat something,” Pansy said. Draco shook his head, burying his face into Harry’s pillow further.

“Harry wouldn’t want this mate,” he heard Ron say. Draco glared, rounding on the redhead, his blood boiling.

“DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME WHAT HE WOULD HAVE WANTED!” Draco yelled. “DON’T YOU FUCKING… TELL ME…” his rage had turned into tears somewhere in the middle and Draco found himself sobbing in front of his friends. Pansy wrapped her arms around Draco then, holding him close, as her friend sobbed into her shoulder. “I don’t think I can do this,” Draco cried, holding onto her tightly. “I’m not strong enough. Not like Harry was.” Pansy merely held him, her own silent tears streaming down her face for her friend. Ron was sobbing too, as were Hermione and Blaise, all of them standing in Harry and Draco’s bedroom. The pain was excruciating, and his only hope was that somehow it would end. Either he would find the bastard who killed his husband and rip them limb from limb, or Draco would tear apart the Ministry, brick by brick.

* * *

The days dragged on, impossibly slowly, and Draco felt as though he were being dragged through cement. Pansy had, eventually convinced him to eat, but other than for a few bathroom breaks, Draco had not left his bed for more than few moments at a time, it was the only way he could be close to Harry, and he was  _determined_ to hold tight to the memory of his husband. Try though he might, Draco couldn’t help but remember the last big argument they’d had. Harry had come home, weeks late from a mission, and Draco had yelled, threatening to divorce Harry if he didn’t quit before he’d broken down in his arms.

“I can’t lose you Harry,” he’d sobbed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry promised, kissing Draco hard, grounding him in the present. “I promise.”

“Goddamn, you!” Draco growled, yelling at Harry’s pillow. “YOU PROMISED!” he sobbed, punching the pillow. “YOU PROMISED YOU”D NEVER LEAVE ME!” he screamed. “You promised,” he repeated weakly curling up around Harry’s pillow, feeling himself sob.

“Draco,” he heard the whispered words of his name that sounded distinctly like Harry.

“Harry?” Draco asked as he opened his eyes, to find Harry, standing over their bed. Harry smiled down at him.

“My beautiful dragon,” Harry said, petting Draco’s hair softly.

“You left me,” Draco accused, tears creeping down his face as Harry continued petting his hair.

“I’m so sorry dragon,” Harry said.

“Am I dead?” Draco asked a moment later. Harry sighed.

“Just dreaming,” the man said.

Why did you leave me?” Draco asked.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry replied. “I never meant to leave you, my love,” he whispered, and just like that he was gone. Draco sat bolt upright in bed, screaming into the darkness, as he stared around the empty room.

The following morning, Draco found himself in St. Mungo’s, requesting a prescription for Dreamless sleep. The healer looked pityingly at Draco and wrote the prescription. For a three month supply.

“This can be highly addictive,” the healer warned, so I want you to take these sparingly. Draco nodded, accepting the prescription and having it filled. 

By the time the three months were up, Draco returned to the healer to find him unwilling to refill his prescription. Draco growled, apparating out of St. Mungo’s and finding himself in a Wizarding Hospital in France to ask for a prescription of dreamless sleep. The French Healer gave Draco the same sad look the English doctor had given him, the look seemingly  _everyone_ gave Draco these days. Then he wrote the prescription.

* * *

Draco had gotten exceptionally good at switching hospitals every few months, whenever the prescription was coming to its end, and conning another healer into writing him a script for dreamless sleep, and when, two and a half years later, he had run out of Wizarding Hospitals, Draco had found himself forging a signature. Desperate for the only relief he could find any more, in a deep and dreamless, potion induced sleep. It had lasted him another year or so before Draco was forced to find another alternative. Producing dreamless sleep himself. Draco was apt enough at potions, and for what he didn’t know, he had found an old potions book of Severus’s informing him how to do it.

_Beware that excessive amounts of Belladonna can slow the heart to dangerous levels._ Snape’s journal had said. Draco snorted. Belladonna was a controlled substance, only purchasable with a potion Master license or on the black market in Knockturn Alley. Draco was desperate and so, he sought out the shady dealer of illegal potion ingredients, paying an exorbitant fee for the Belladonna.

The potion was complete exactly one week before Draco’s last supply of dreamless sleep was out.  Draco crawled into bed, downing the contents of his potion in one swig, and laid down, closing his eyes, never to wake again.

A blinding white light greeted Draco, a moment later, as he appeared in Kings Cross. Draco looked around the bright white train station.

“Draco,” Harry spoke from behind him.

“No,” Draco cried. “I brewed it wrong, goddamnit!” he yelled, cursing his mind for making him dream of Harry again. He looked even more spectacular than Draco had remembered. Yet still, dreaming about him wasn’t as painful as it had been earlier. “Why are we in King’s Cross?” Draco asked.

Harry sighed. “Oh Draco,” he said. “You’ve died.”

“What?” Draco gasped, clasping his hand to his mouth. “H—how?”

“Excessive dreamless sleep usage,” Harry replied. “Belladonna poisoning,” Harry replied.

Draco looked at Harry then, “So this isn’t a dream then?” Harry shook his head.

“Ooh Harry,” he cried, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him deeply. “Gods I’ve missed you,” he sobbed.

“I’ve missed you too,” Harry said, holding onto Draco then.

“You promised me you’d never leave,” Draco growled.

Harry sighed. “I’m sorry love. I wish I hadn’t.” Draco held onto him, never wanting to let him go. 


	26. Draco's Parseltongue Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Need I say more? Based on an ask. Smut.

The first time Harry hissed in Draco’s ear had been a total accident. They were ‘studying’ in Draco’s private room in Slytherin, a perk of being Head Boy for their 8th year, and the sight of snakes everywhere had apparently brought on Harry’s Parseltongue as he whispered something in Draco’s ear, climbing on top of the blond. Draco moaned, “Harry,” he whined. “What… what are you saying?” Harry stared at him curiously, “Gods who cares. Just keep talking to me like that.”

“Like what?” Harry asked. Draco frowned, looking at Harry.

“You were just speaking Parseltongue,” Draco replied.

“I was?” Harry asked. “I didn’t know I could still do that.” Draco shuddered. “Wait do you…  _like_ that?”

“What do you think?” Draco said trying to be snappy, but failing miserably.

Harry grinned, leaning down hissing in his ear.  _You’re so beautiful my love. Do you like this? Do you like when I hiss in your ear?_

“Harry,” Draco whined, arching up against him. “Oh gods, Harry please. Fuck me.” Harry grinned, vanishing their clothes with a simple wave of his hand. Draco gasped, he loved Harry’s raw displays of power. “Fuck.”  _Like that? I know you do baby._ Draco whimpered,  _I’m going to prepare you now,_ Harry hissed against his ear, slipping two lubed fingers into the blond. Draco writhed, arching off the bed, as Harry’s thick fingers spread him open. Two became three, and three quickly became four, twisting around him. Draco  _needed_  all of them, even after all these months, taking Harry’s unfairly large cock was occasionally a challenge for Draco, not that he would ever admit as much. He  _loved_ Harry’s cock. Loved the feel of it inside him, tearing him apart as he rode it, or Harry fucked him open with it. Draco was certain Harry’s cock had ruined him for any others. His favorite part was the long thick vein on the underside that added an extra thrill while Harry fucked him.  _One day I’ll make you come just from my parseltongue_ he purred. Draco whined, “Harry.” Harry took pity on him then, lubing up his cock with another wandless spell, sliding into the blond, ever so slowly. Draco whimpered, letting Harry fill him up.  _So tight,_ Harry hissed, dragging his cock out before slamming into Draco. Draco screamed, the burn was delicious, and Harry’s hissing in his ear was dragging him dangerously close to the edge.  _Gods you are so perfect._

Draco whined, letting Harry fuck him hard and punishing, desperate for release, moaning Harry’s name over and over.  _Come for me Draco,_ Harry hissed, and as if he understood, Draco did. Harry grinned, kissing his throat chasing his own orgasm.

“Fuuck,” Draco shuddered.

“So Parseltongue huh?” Harry asked grinning. Draco glared.

“Fuck off you prat.”

_That’s not very nice,_ Harry said slipping into the language easily. Draco whimpered.

“Bastard.”

_You love it,_ Harry said and kissed him. Draco sighed happily.


	27. Teasing Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco discovers the joys of snapchat and teases Harry with it. Muggle Au. Smut

Harry groaned to himself, wondering, not for the first time, why he’d agreed to be apart of the Ministry’s Post-War Gala committee. It was Hermione’s doing in the end, that had finally tipped the scales.

“It’s the tenth anniversary Harry. You  _have_ to be a part of it,” she’d insisted. Harry had considered arguing but he  _knew_ it was fruitless. Hermione would only continue badgering him for the rest of time and eventually, Harry would do it because he could never say no to her for long. She hadn’t become the Deputy Undersecretary to Minister Shacklebolt in five years for nothing. She was already on track to become the Youngest Minister in History once Shacklebolt retired in the Fall and no one would dare oppose a war hero like Hermione. Not even Harry Potter himself.

So he sat in the conference room in the Ministry of Magic listening to a man who sounded suspiciously like Professor Binns drone on and on about their plans for the 10th Anniversary when his phone buzzed. Harry looked around, making sure no one was paying attention to him as he discreetly opened his cell phone (another gift of Hermione’s, dragging the Ministry and Wizarding kind kicking and screaming into the 21st century). Harry smiled when he realized it was a Snapchat from Draco.

Harry opened the app and froze. There, taking up most of his screen was Draco kneeling on their bed wearing a pair of red lace and silk knickers, his hands in his hair, and his back arched and… Harry squinted at his phone,  _was he wearing lipstick?_

The caption over the picture read  _Bored. When are you coming home?_

Harry swallowed, quickly messaging back:

DragonLover:  _Fuck you look hot. When did you buy that?_

LionFuxxker:  _;)_

A moment later his phone buzzed again with a new Snapchat video for him. Harry made sure the sound was muted before he played it. Draco was standing now, with his back to Harry, dancing. His arse jiggling in the knickers as they hung on for dear life. Harry bit back a moan, but only just, at the sight.

DragonLover:  _You’re going to get it if you keep this up._

LionFuxxker:  _Promises, promises. :*_

Harry swallowed, eagerly waiting for the next message. He didn’t have to wait long. Within a matter of moments another Snapchat video came through, this one of Draco on his back, rubbing his silk covered cock through the knickers, his legs spread wide. Harry felt himself grow hard at the sight.

DragonLover:  _Draco!_

LionFuxxker:  _Should I prepare myself for you?_

Harry groaned, biting his bottom lip so hard he was sure it was going to bleed.

DragonLover:  _yesss_

Moments later, a video came through, with the caption:  _Couldn’t wait._ Draco’s legs were spread wide, his feet were planted firmly on the mattress. His hole exposed to the video as he shoved two fingers into himself. Harry groaned, and suddenly several pairs of eyes were on him. He cleared his throat quickly, putting his phone in his pocket so as to avoid suspicion. He knew he ought to have been paying attention if the glare Hermione was giving him from up the table was anything to go by, but  _gods_ how could he possibly be expected to pay attention to anything, when his boyfriend was sending him Snapchat Stories like that. By the time the meeting had finally finished, Harry had received a dozen more photos and videos, all of Draco fingering himself in his knickers, licking his impossibly red lips, and begging for Harry to come home and take care of him. Harry had barely waited for the meeting to be dismissed before he’d run out of the conference room and towards the lifts to get to the floos. He was tempted just to apparate through the Ministry’s wards but the last time he’d done that it had not gone particularly well, and the subsequent inquiry had been a hell of a time for Hermione to sort through. He didn’t want to put her through that again, so instead Harry patiently waited for the lifts, his cock aching and his whole body thrumming.

DragonLover:  _Almost home baby._

Harry hit send on the message just as the lift doors opened and Harry raced out into the Ministry lobby and grabbed a bit of floo powder, throwing it into the flames and shouting,  _Number 12 Grimmauld Place._ Harry vanished in a swirl of green flames, and tumbled out of the fireplace and onto the floor of the downstairs drawing room, tearing off his cloak, shoes, socks, trousers, and shirt as he went until he was only in his pants, as he sprinted up the stairs toward his and Draco’s bedroom.

Seeing it in person was even more arousing than Harry had imagined. At some point, Draco had slipped on a matching corset to the knickers and bright red Louboutin heels. Harry’s mouth was watering as he stared at his boyfriend sprawled out on the bed.

“You’ve been a very bad boy Draco,” Harry said as he approached.

Draco grinned up at him, “What are you going to do about it?” he asked. Harry walked over to the tall black leather wingbacked chair that sat across from their bed, and sat, waggling his finger, beckoning Draco over. Draco moaned, crawling off the bed toward him, and stood before Harry. Harry grabbed Draco by the corset bending him over his knee. Draco gasped, as Harry’s hand came down hard across his arse still covered by the red knickers. Draco whined, growing impossibly harder as Harry spanked him several times. “Teasing me all day like that,” Harry growled, ghosting feather light touches across Draco’s reddened arse. “Such a bad boy.” Draco whimpered. “I think you need to be properly punished, don’t you?” Draco whined. “If I just fucked you now, would you really learn your lesson?”

“Yes,” Draco whined. Harry shook his head.

“No. I think we’re going to have to do a little bit more than that first,” Harry grinned, helping Draco to his feet then. “I wanna see you do that little dance in your outfit,” Harry replied, leaning back in the chair, his hands behind his head. He knew his hard-on was peaking out of his boxers, Draco was staring unabashedly at the sight, licking his lips. Harry raised an eyebrow in challenge and Draco sucked in a deep breath, doing as he was told.

Harry watched, hungrily as Draco danced,  _fuck but Draco was so hot_ , he thought. Draco bent forward, so that his arse was right in Harry’s face, bouncing it towards him. Harry growled, smacking his arse again before he dragged Draco into his lap. Draco whined.

“Keep dancing,” Harry hissed in his ear. Draco shuddered, gyrating on Harry’s barely clothed erection, just as Harry had ordered. Draco was fully whimpering, the feel of Harry’s cock just barely teasing his hole and his own cock. “Mmm, now that’s a good boy,” Harry whispered in his ear.

“Harry,” Draco whined.

“Get on the bed,” Harry commanded. Draco scrambled towards the bed, as fast as he could spreading his legs wide for the other man. Harry smiled staring at the sight of his boyfriend like this. There was nothing better than seeing Draco look so debauched as he did then. “Arse up,” Harry growled, as he stood. Draco whined, getting on his hands and knees so his arse was in the air. “Good boy,” Harry pulled down the lace knickers just enough to expose Draco’s hole. Still slick from all his fingering earlier. Harry grinned, slipping a finger all the way to the knuckle into him. Draco whined, trying to fuck himself on Harry’s finger. “Ah ah ah.” Harry gripped Draco’s hips, holding him in place with his free hand, as he slipped another finger inside, crooking them to find Draco’s prostate. Draco screamed, writhing on the bed and Harry grinned. “Gods I love the sounds you make,” Harry said sliding his fingers in and out of the blond’s hole, Draco was panting, begging mindlessly for Harry to fuck him.  _Please._ Harry sighed, taking pity on his boyfriend then, and pulled down his own boxers sliding deep into the hot awaiting heat of his boyfriend. Draco let out a loud grunt at that and Harry grinned, slamming into him repeatedly, setting up a brutal pace as he fucked the blond.

“Gods, you have no idea what those videos did to me in that meeting,” Harry growled, fucking Draco with wild abandon. “That beautiful arse, and these fucking knickers. I’ve never been so hard. I had to fight not to race home and fuck you senseless,

“Harry,” Draco whined.

“Then I come home and your in a corset too? And lipstick? Fuck, how are you so amazingly gorgeous? And sexy at all times,” Harry growled. Draco was moaning Harry’s name over and over again.

“Please, Harry, I’m so close.”

Harry leaned over his boyfriend then, kissing over the back of his neck as he held Draco close, fucking him with deep, short thrusts. “Come for me Draco,” Harry growled in his ear. With a strangled cry, Draco came. Harry groaned, coming shortly after his boyfriend. Draco whimpered as Harry filled him up with his come. Harry slid out of him, reluctantly, giving Draco’s arse one more spank for his trouble.

“Fuck,” Draco said. His legs were shaking, as he collapsed onto the bed. His whole body felt like jelly, save his arse which was throbbing in a delicious way.

“I’ll say,” Harry chuckled, laying next to the blond. Draco sighed, as Harry pulled him into his chest, kissing over his neck and shoulders. “You’re so impossibly beautiful,” Harry whispered. Draco sighed. nodding, “We should get this off of you though,” Harry said waving a hand and vanishing the corset, heels, and knickers.

“Show off,” Draco grumbled, burying his face in Harry’s chest.

“You love it,” Harry said into his hair, tangling their limbs together as he held the blond tight. He knew he would have to deal with the wrath of Hermione Granger-Parkinson in the morning, but that was future Harry’s problem, he thought, pulling the duvet over the two of them, and letting his eyes fall closed.


	28. King Harry's New Mistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Harry has a new mistress, carriage sex ensues. Smut

Rain poured down from the sky in thick buckets as Draco was escorted from his family home in Wiltshire to the Palace of the King. The young veela, only several days nineteen had been called upon by King Harry to be made his consort. Draco was furious,  _how dare this man command him about like this!_ He thought.

“It is a great honor,” his mother had informed him, as the maids dressed him in his finest silks. Draco snorted.

“Any King who must request a consort surely cannot be any man of honor.  _Nor_ does he have anything to offer me,” Draco said with a huff. His mother had ignored the comment, and several hours later, Draco had found himself in a carriage with a footman and several knights surrounding him on either side as the carriage made its way to the palace. The trip was treacherously long, and Draco was bored, and the footman was terribly handsome and Draco was oh so tempted. What better revenge could there be than to slip to his knees before another man, before the King would have his chance? Draco was meant to be virginal after all hadn’t that been part of the reason for his being chosen? The man in question was looking anywhere but at Draco, and honestly, it was starting to drive Draco crazy. He was terribly bored.

“So, have you worked for the King long?” Draco tried. The dark-haired man turned to Draco then, raising an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?” the man asked. He had the most brilliantly green eyes and Draco found he couldn’t stop staring.

“What’s he like, really? This  _King Harry,_ ” Draco said the name derisively with a roll of his eyes and the man before him couldn’t help but smirk.

“I take it you’re not pleased?” the man asked. “A great many would consider your position to be quite an honor.”

Draco snorted, “A great many are stupid,” he said. “I’m being called to the palace by some no doubt moldy old King, with no hair, and a small sword.”

The man before him laughed now. “I don’t believe King Harry is old,” the man replied. “Certainly not bald either. Though I’ve no doubt his sword will be considerable enough for you.”

Draco snorted, and took the footman in fully, he was dressed remarkably well for a servant, though Draco was told the King treated his servants very well. He supposed he was to become one soon enough. A concubine meant to service the King whenever it suited him. Draco frowned at the thought.

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that,” Draco said with a huff. “What about you though?” he asked. “What’s your sword like?” he grinned, and the man before him stared at the blond.

“Aren’t you meant to be pure for the King?” he asked.

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Draco said as he slid to his knees, and crawled over to the other man. The man in question merely stared at Draco, as Draco looked up at him from his lap, his long blond lashes fluttering. The man merely nodded, and Draco removed his trousers, and stared, unabashedly at the rather large, hard length of the man sitting before him. Draco moaned, dragging his tongue from the base of the man’s cock all the way to the tip before taking the whole thing into his mouth, sucking eagerly. The man moaned, fucking into his mouth moments later, holding Draco’s head down as his tongue swirled around the head. Teasingly. Draco hummed, drawing forth another moan from the man as Draco devoured him. One of the many prized traits of the veela were their natural talents in bed, even without knowing quite what he as meant to be doing, Draco knew how to please the man before him, enjoying the weight of the other man’s cock on his tongue as he swallowed him down over and over again, teasing his length with the tip of his tongue. The man groaned, then came with a shout down Draco’s throat.

Draco moaned, swallowing every last drop of his come, sucking harder at the tip to milk every last drop from the still writhing man. Draco sighed, contentedly, moving back over to his own seat as the man tucked himself away, staring at Draco, as he worked to catch his breath. Draco merely smiled.

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never done that before.”

“You obviously don’t know a thing about veela lore do you?” Draco said rolling his eyes.

“I know you’re not like any veela I’ve ever known before,” the man replied.

“And how’s that?”

“You’re remarkably bratty and spoiled and quite impossible.”

“Good! Maybe the King will let me go then,” he growled.

“Let you go? Do you feel imprisoned?”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Draco said. “I’m to be his sex slave, aren’t I? Fucking me, whenever the mood strikes him.”

The man before him frowned, “I believe you misunderstood my offer,” he said. “I meant to have you as my bride, my Queen, my equal in every sense, not my servant, sexual or otherwise.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Oh fuck.” Harry laughed. “Why didn’t you  _say_ anything?”

“Your parents knew who I was. You made the assumption I was a servant of the King, and I merely didn’t correct you. I find it’s better to figure out what people think of me that way.”

“I didn’t mean,” Draco swallowed. “I didn’t mean to offend you, majesty,” he said, staring at the floor.

Harry gave him a look then. “Draco.” Draco looked up into the King’s eyes. “I’m not mad. If anything I’m relieved. I sought you out because I understood that you were a handful and I wanted someone for a fellow ruler who would keep things interesting for me, and keep me in check.” Draco blushed brilliantly at that.

“So I’m not to be just your concubine then?”

Harry laughed, “Heavens no. Though your skills are impressive, and I must say I’m eager to taste you on my lips, I shall only do so with your express permission.” Draco swallowed hard at that.

“You have it,” he said spreading his legs. Harry smiled, getting to his knees and stalking across the carriage toward Draco, pulling down his silk trousers.

“Gods you are impossibly beautiful,” he said, lifting up Draco’s arse, and plunging his tongue into the veela’s hole. Draco moaned, his heel digging into the King’s shoulder blade as the raven-haired man devoured him, fucking him with his tongue and making Draco cry out. Draco could  _definitely_ get used to being Queen, he thought.


	29. Getting Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco are professors and they're not particularly subtle at hiding their affair. Smut. Based on an ask prompt on Tumblr.

For as much as they thought they were clever, neither Harry nor Draco were particularly sneaky when it came to their affair. They’d been caught out on no less than three occasions, snogging in a corridor by Prefects from both of their houses, much to Minerva’s immense displeasure.

“You are meant to be teachers and the heads of your respective houses, yet you’re running around snogging like a pair of fourth years!” she had berated them. Draco and Harry had talked over each other, trying to make excuses for why it hadn’t been what it had looked like.

“We were practicing CPR,” Harry lied. Draco glared.

“Standing up? In an alcove where you wouldn’t be seen?” Minerva said incredulously.

“Well we didn’t want to be in the way,” Harry said. A small part of Draco almost wanted to be impressed with the confidence with which Harry had lied. Even if it  _was_ preposterously stupid, he sold it with the confidence of a man who fully believed his own bullshit.

“We’re terribly sorry Minerva, it won’t happen again,” Draco said. The headmistress nodded, looking at Harry then.

“ _That_ , is how you lie, Mr. Potter,” she said, and with that, she excused the both of them from her office. 

But of course, it  _had_ happened again. Less than a full week later, Harry and Draco had been caught by a professor this time. Harry’s hands had been full of Draco’s arse and his lips were sucking on the blond’s neck, eliciting moans that could be heard even despite their silencing charm, and poorly done disillusionment charm.

“What happened to your bloody cloak?” Draco hissed.

“We’re too tall!” Harry replied as they made their way back to Minerva’s office.

Minerva sighed, “What am I going to do with the two of you?” she said. “I don’t understand why you can’t seem to keep it in your rooms? I don’t think that’s asking too much.”

“It’s not,” Draco said. It had been Harry’s fault, the insatiable prat. They were meant to be doing rounds together, hunting out their own snogging teenagers and had instead ended up in an area off the fifth floor, hidden from view by a large tapestry. Harry had hastily put up the silencing and disillusionment spells  _Draco’s first mistake,_ and had pressed him against the wall.

“And yet here we are,” Minerva said.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said hanging his head. “It was my fault. I pulled Harry behind the tapestry,” he said. Harry stared at Draco then. Minerva eyed Draco, disbelieving, but did not argue.

“Right, you, of course, understand that this means I will have to discipline you, you’ll be expected to handle grading for all the first year students, and if I receive another report about either one of you, I’ll have no choice but to sack you,” she said.

Draco frowned, staring down at the floor then, but nodded. “Yes headmistress,” he said. Minerva excused them once more, and Draco got up, running out of the Headmistress’s office and down the stairs before Harry could catch up with him. Unfortunately for Draco, Harry had grown a bit taller than him at some point, and he used his longer legs to his advantage to overtake the blond and stop him dead in his tracks.

“What?” Draco demanded.

“Why did you take the blame? Why didn’t you throw me under the bus?”

“The what?”

“It’s a muggle expression,” Harry said. “Not important.”

“Leave me alone, gods I feel like I’m back in sixth year all over again, always getting into trouble because of you.” Harry frowned, then.

“Fine, if that’s how you feel about it, I’ll leave you alone,” he said.

Draco groaned, “Harry you know that’s not what I mean, but,” he sighed. “I can’t afford to lose this job. You can go anywhere, and do anything. You’re the savior. I’m just an ex-Death Eater who Minerva too kindly took in, and if I was sacked everyone would assume it was because I was up to no good and they’d say I had it coming. Because no matter what I try to do, no matter how much I try to better myself, none of it matters. All anyone sees is this,” he said holding out his left arm. Harry took Draco’s hand then, dragging him towards the Slytherin dorms, and off to where Draco’s own private Professor’s dorm sat. Harry dragged Draco into the room, letting the portrait shut behind them. “Harry what are you…” but Harry had dropped to his knees then, still holding onto Draco’s left arm. Pulling up his sleeve, Harry kissed over the scarred looking flesh of the Dark Mark. Draco hissed, shuddering, he couldn’t dare look away as Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s marred flesh.

“This is not who you are,” Harry whispered against his skin, his lips burning against Draco’s flesh as if erasing every dark power ever held there. Draco gasped.

“Harry.”

“Say it. This is  _not_ who you are!”

“This is not who I am,” Draco said, breathlessly. Harry looked up at Draco then, kissing from his arm to his stomach. Waving his hand, Draco’s clothes vanished. Draco gasped, as a breeze fluttered across his too hot skin. “Harry,” he whined.

Harry held him tight, kissing down his stomach. “So beautiful,” he said, shoving Draco up against the wall, and devouring his cock down to the hilt. Draco moaned, arching off of the wall into Harry’s hot mouth. Harry slid two fingers into Draco’s hole as he sucked him, dragging a ragged scream from the blond above him.

“Harry,” he cried, gripping Harry’s messy black locks in his fingers.

“I don’t want to keep this a secret anymore,” Harry said a moment later, his fingers were still buried in Draco’s arse and Draco couldn’t think properly.

“What?”

“Us. I don’t want to keep us a secret,” Harry said, absentmindedly twisting his fingers in and out of the blond “I respect you too much for that.”

Draco whined, “Fuck, Harry, please… whatever you want, just fuck me,” Harry turned to look up at him then. “Are you sure?”

Draco growled, “FUCK ME!” he yelled. Harry got to his feet fast and turned Draco around, so he was pressed up against the wall and lubed the blond with a bit of wandless magic before he vanished his own clothes and slid into Draco.

“Fuck, Draco,” he moaned into Draco’s ear.

Draco whined as Harry took care of him, fucking him slowly and passionately, so different from their usual hurried fucking. This was lovemaking. Draco turned, and Harry claimed his lips in a searing kiss as he thrust into him. “Harry,” he whined, and with that, he came against the wall. Dragging Harry to his own orgasm shortly thereafter.

The next morning, Draco entered the Great Hall hand-in-hand, much to the applause and wolf whistles from multiple students. Draco blushed crimson as he made his way to the staff table. Several teachers exchanged galleons, as Harry kissed Draco’s cheek and they both took their seats. Minerva smiled.


	30. Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco are Undercover at a petrol station in the middle of nowhere waiting for criminals. Based on an Tumblr ask. Smut

There was perhaps, no more boring an assignment than being made to work the night shift at a Petrol station. Even if they  _were_ meant to be undercover. Not for the first time, Harry found himself dozing off, staring blankly at the CCTV they’d set up to monitor the bank across the street which had been robbed six times over the last four months. All deep in the night and all with seemingly no normal means of entry, which is how the Ministry and the Auror division had gotten involved.

“You two are my best Aurors,” Shacklebolt had informed Harry and Draco.

“So you’re assigning us on this case to what? Punish us?” Draco demanded.

Shacklebolt smiled, “Consider it like a vacation.”

“To where…” Harry slapped his hand to Draco’s mouth then, thanking the Minister as they exited his office. Draco glared, but Harry merely shook his head.

“It’s an easy case,” Harry said. “Who argues with that?”

“Says the most impatient man I’ve ever met,” Draco snorted. Harry waved him off.

“Just trust me, okay?” Draco sighed, what other choice did he have? 

Few customers had bothered showing up, whoever was robbing a bank in the middle of the English countryside certainly had picked a prime location. There weren’t any other humans for miles, and Draco was beginning to suspect their assignment was an odd excuse to get rid of them for a little while, though why Draco couldn’t say. Harry’s head lulled back and Draco elbowed him in the ribs.

“What?” Harry shot up.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Gods this place is boring. Who the hell would rob a bank all the way out here, there hasn’t even been a single car, driving by in the last two hours.” Harry yawned, stretching his arms above his head and stood, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist then, burying his face in the blond’s neck. “What do you think you’re doing Potter?” Draco asked. The two had been working together for several months, yet Draco couldn’t resist calling his partner Potter any chance he got.

“Surveillance,” Harry whispered against his neck, sliding down to the floor and taking Draco’s trousers with him. Draco gasped.

“What if someone, oh bugger it,” Draco flicked his wand at the camera pointing at them to make it loop over the last half hour, casting a disillusionment on them as Harry pulled down his pants and spread Draco’s arse, licking a long strip up the middle. Draco groaned, bracing himself against the counter. It was certainly the most interesting thing that had happened to him in several hours, and he had it on good authority Harry was a master with his tongue. Draco shuddered, writhing against Harry’s mouth as the dark haired man shoved his face in deeper, his scraggly beard scratching against Draco’s sensitive hole and making Draco moan. It was the most wonderful tortuous ecstasy, he thought, gripping the other side of the counter, spreading himself out. Harry hummed, sliding two fingers in beside his tongue. Draco thought he might pass out any moment from the bliss of pleasure Harry was giving him. Then he crooked his fingers and Draco was certain he had temporarily blacked out. Gods but it had been too long. Draco had been far too busy with Auror training to actually bother dating, not that he’d been given many offers. Impossibly, Harry seemed to know all of Draco’s weak spots, and Draco couldn’t help but buck back against the other man’s mouth.

“Please fuck me,” Draco whined. Harry grinned, standing up then.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, pulling out his wand. Draco shuddered as Harry conjured a bit of lube into his hand, slicking up his cock and slid into the blond. Draco moaned, letting Harry fuck him, harder drawing out the most delicious sounds from Draco. He shuddered, pressing his face into the counter, vaguely he heard a beeping that he knew to be their magical alarm system but the thought of Harry stopping now was enough to make Draco want to cry. The beeping grew louder, and Harry growled, pulling out.

“Stay right there,” Harry said, pulling up his trousers quickly, to see what the trouble was. Draco snorted, laying against the counter.  _As if he had anywhere else to go,_ he thought murderously. Harry was back less than a moment later. “False alarm,” he said slipping back into Draco. Draco whined.

“Unless the perp was under a disillusionment too,” Draco said.

“FUCK!” Harry growled, pulling out again and Draco hit his head repeatedly on the counter.  _Salazar give me strength._ This time Harry was gone for considerably longer, and Draco had almost considered pulling up his trousers and going out to see what the fuss was, but then, Harry had returned several moments later, his lip busted and his hair a mess. “Now where were we?” he said with a grin.

Draco’s eyes widened. “Do you have a concussion Potter?”

“No, but I have a raging hard on that if I don’t get fixed I’m going to be very cranky.”

“What did you do with the suspects?”

“Handled,” Harry assured him, turning Draco around and shoving his face into the counter.

“But…”

Harry groaned, “Draco, I really don’t want to talk about this right now. So would you prefer I stopped?”

“Gods no,” Draco moaned.

“Then, shut up,” and with that Harry slipped into Draco’s arse again with a moan. Fucking him hard and fast, and without stopping, even as Draco came against the counter. 


	31. Minister Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is Minister for Magic, Draco is his secretary who's very good at his job. Smut smut smut

Harry Potter had never particularly thought of himself as Minister for Magic material. The idea of running the entire Ministry that had made his life so difficult through much of his youth had seemed oddly counterintuitive to him, yet now that he was here Harry couldn’t help but love it. It had been a rough start, what with the assistant search, and the struggle to find someone competent enough to get the job done while also having someone who  _wouldn’t_ get all moon-eyed at the boy-who-lived. The answer, in the end, had been painfully obvious.

Draco Malfoy. No longer enemies with Harry, Draco proved a powerful ally and more importantly an asset to the newly appointed Minister. He was brilliant and aggressive with anyone who thought they were owed time with Harry, and his ability to keep track of the most minute details made him Harry’s personal favorite person in the entire Ministry. It didn’t hurt that Draco was impossibly gorgeous. A knock sounded on the door to Harry’s office, and Draco stepped in a moment later.

“Got the latest reports for you to look over,” Draco said, handing over the papers to the Minister. Harry took them gratefully.

“You reviewed them?” Harry asked raising an eyebrow.

“You know that isn’t my job Minister,” Draco replied, walking over to Harry’s private bar and pouring the Minister a snifter of brandy. “But yes,” Harry grinned. He loved how Draco always knew what he needed even before Harry did.

“How’s it looking?”

“Well, the Auror’s are dangerously close to going over budget so we’ll need to rein them in,” by which Draco meant  _he’d,_ need to rein them in. There was no more terrifying force in the Ministry than the Minister’s personal secretary, and many had learned this the hard way, not to mess with the blond. Harry nodded as Draco walked over with the Minister’s drink and placed it down in front of him.

“Making me a drink, should I be worried?”

“Whatever for Minister?” Draco asked taking a seat at the side of the Minister’s desk.

“Nothing good ever comes with you preparing me a drink,” Harry remarked. Draco laughed.

“The budget committee is looking at relocating funds from area’s they find, no longer necessary. Given that a lot of the children affected by the war are of Hogwarts attending age they are looking into diverting funding from the war orphanage, elsewhere,” Draco said. Harry glared.

“You can’t be serious!”

Draco sighed, “I’m afraid so Minister.”

“But…” Draco held up a hand.

“It will never pass committee. For one thing, you will explain to them that the war orphanage fund is less than .0001% of the Ministry’s total budget.” Draco explained. “Plus, anyone who looks like they’re going against Harry Potter would find themselves facing a very tough re-election campaign in the next year,” Draco reminded him with a smile. Harry calmed considerably.

“How is it you know how to solve problems before they’re even problems?” Harry asked.

“I’m a Slytherin, Minister, I was bred to handle all manner of political problems before they could become problems.” Harry chuckled.

“You really should call me Harry,” he said taking a small sip of his drink.

Draco raised an eyebrow then. “Unnecessary Minister, but thank you. Now then,” he stood up. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes as a matter of fact,” Harry said taking off his glasses to massage his temples. It had been a long day and Harry was starting to get a headache. Before he could say what he’d intended to, however, Draco moved around the desk, and began to massage Harry’s shoulders.

“You really need to learn to take it easy,” Draco said. Harry let out a soft moan at Draco’s perfect hands, massaging across his aching shoulders.

“You’re very good at that,” Harry said with a groan. Draco laughed, leaning down and whispered in Harry’s ear.

“I’m good at everything I do, Minister.”

Harry moaned, “Fuck, Draco I…” he turned around so he could see Draco then. Draco smiled down at the Minister.

“You know, sex is a  _very_ good stress reliever. You really ought to be having more of it, you know?” Harry swallowed hard.

“Yes, I… quite agree. I don’t suppose you could help me with that?” Harry said.

Draco grinned. “I suppose I could be persuaded,” he said dropping to his knees then. Harry groaned at the sight, Draco made quick work of his trousers and pants.

“Holy shite,” Draco gasped, staring at Harry’s cock, swallowing hard. It was long and impossibly thick, mouthwateringly so. The head was glistening with a bead of precome and it was all Draco could do not to devour him in one go.

“Alright there?” Harry asked. Draco licked his lips.

“Better than,” Draco said. “I just. You know I’d heard rumors in school, but this is so much better than I’d dared hope.”

Harry chuckled. “Perhaps you should deal with it then, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Yes Minister,” Draco said taking Harry’s length into his mouth, humming around the length. It was difficult but Draco was nothing if not determined to take as much of Harry as he could get into his mouth. 

Harry groaned, spreading his legs for the blond. “Fuck, you are incredibly good at that,” he moaned as Draco sucked his cock, swirling his tongue around the head. Harry buried his fingers in Draco’s soft blond locks. “Fuck.”

Draco grinned, pulling off Harry’s cock for a moment to look up at him, grinning. “Gods, so good,” he moaned kissing the head. Harry gasped, pulling Draco into his lap, grinding his hard length against Draco’s hole. Draco whined. “Oh fuck.” Harry grinned.

“That’s the idea,” he purred, sucking on Draco’s neck. Draco whimpered.

“Harry,” he whined.

Harry grinned, “Yes?”

“Fuck me please,” Draco said.

Harry laughed, “Sure you can take it? I haven’t even prepared you yet.”

Draco grinned, “I’m  _always_ prepared Minister,” Draco replied. Harry groaned, and with a wave of his hand Draco’s clothes vanished.

“Fuck that’s hot,” he said sliding into Draco’s awaiting hole. Draco moaned, arching off of Harry’s lap then.

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco whined. “Gods so big feels soo good,”

Harry grinned, sucking on Draco’s throat again, “I’m glad I could take care of you for a change, since you’re so good at taking care of me,” Draco whined, riding Harry’s cock, hard and deep.

“Oh fuck, fuck, Harry, fuuuck,” he moaned. Harry growled, meeting Draco thrust for thrust. His thighs ached, and sweat was dripping down his chest as he held onto Draco tightly.

“Come for me baby,” Harry said. Draco moaned loud and came completely untouched just from Harry’s cock inside him. Harry groaned as Draco’s walls clenched around his length. “Fuck, so good,” he purred, coming hard inside the blond. Draco sighed, laying his head on Harry’s chest. “You know, I was planning to ask you to dinner initially,” Harry said, offering Draco’s temple a kiss. Draco smiled.

“I’d love to,” he said.

Harry laughed and kissed Draco fully on the lips. “I do hope you’ll still stay on as my secretary, you’re the best thing that ever happened to my office.”

“Well my arse is anyway,” Draco said with a smirk.

“No all of you,” Harry admitted, downing the rest of his whiskey, with a hiss. “You’re really remarkable. Your ability to hold this place together with a few threats is impressive and terribly hot.”

Draco smiled. “Well if this is to be my compensation for a job well done I suppose I’ll take it.”

Harry laughed. “I am paying you.”

“Consider this a raise,” Draco said kissing Harry. Harry sighed. Draco Malfoy really was the best man for the job.


	32. One Night Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A one night stand between Harry and Draco ends up with Draco pregnant. Angst ensues.

Draco stared incredulously at the healer as the man spoke, “You’re pregnant Mr. Malfoy,” he’d said. Draco laughed, though there was nothing even remotely funny about such a statement. The Healer had merely stared at Draco, giving him a moment to processes his words.

“You can’t be serious,” Draco said incredulously. He had just come in to figure out  _why_ he’d been so tired lately, and why his magic had been off and the healer had run a series of tests that had all concluded in one seemingly impossible fact. Draco Malfoy was pregnant.

“Do you have any idea who the father might be?” the healer asked. Draco snorted, contrary to popular opinion Draco was not some easy man any man could take home. In fact, there was only one man Draco had had sex with, in the last three months. Draco froze, his eyes widening as flashes of the one-night stand from exactly three months earlier flashed through his mind. Dark hair, and emerald green eyes boring into his own. Warm lips teasing at his ear, licking the shell of it and promising him the world.

“Fuck,” Draco said. The healer looked somewhat aghast and Draco groaned, burying his face in his hands.  _No no no,_ Potter. No one had seen Potter in three months, not since the end of the war. Draco clasped a hand to his mouth, tears streaming down his face as he realized what it meant. Draco was pregnant with Harry Potter’s baby. Harry Potter, who everyone was certain had died, he had disappeared into the Forbidden Forest, and never returned, nor had his body ever been recovered. The only thing anyone had known was that as it had been almost eighteen years prior, the killing curse had rebounded on the Dark Lord, and with the last of his horcruxes vanquished he had been killed at the same time Potter had.

It was too gruesome to think about. The healer raised an enquiring eyebrow, but Draco shook his head. “I thought I might know who it was but, I’m afraid I can’t recall.”

“I thought as much,” the healer said. Draco pursed his lips, “Well you have a few options. You can keep the child of course, or through a series of potions…”

“No. I, I want to keep the baby,” Draco sighed, clutching his stomach, it was the last memory he would ever have of Potter, and Draco couldn’t bear to give that up.

“Very well then,” the healer said. “We’ll need to set you up on a certain regimen of potions. Wizarding pregnancies can be tricky, but manageable.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Draco replied. The Healer raised an eyebrow at that, but Draco didn’t care what the old man thought of him. No one could ever know his secret, nor could they ever possibly hope to understand. Draco sighed.

* * *

Telling his parents was perhaps the hardest thing Draco had ever done. He could barely look at either of them as he sat them down and informed them he was pregnant. His parents had long ago accepted his sexuality but even they had never imagined this.

“Who is he?” Lucius demanded.

“It doesn’t matter,” Draco replied.

“He should be here, to help raise his child!” Lucius growled. “And to marry you. No grandchild of mine will be a bastard.” Draco sighed.

“When did all this happen?” Narcissa asked. Draco frowned, he couldn’t look his parents in the eyes then.

“Three months ago,” he said. “During the,” he swallowed. “During the final battle.” Narcissa clasped a hand to her mouth as Lucius looked scandalized. The questions of parentage had ended there. Draco felt confident that neither of his parents knew who his baby’s father was, but they did know one thing. The baby’s father was no longer in the picture, likely killed during the final battle. Often, Draco would catch his mother giving him sad looks, and his father had begun the process of arranging a marriage with a pureblood wizard for Draco. Someone who could help raise his child, and continue on the Malfoy name. Draco didn’t fight his father when he’d suggested Theodore Nott. Theo was from a good pureblood family, a member of the Sacred 28 who was far enough removed from everything that Lucius wasn’t particularly worried they would lose everything. Plus he carried the distinction of being one of the few people willing to marry Draco despite his pregnancy.

The secret was kept tight within the family, even Draco’s friends wouldn’t know until after the wedding, which Lucius had managed to make swift. Draco was still at least two months from really beginning to show and Lucius wanted it to conceivably work out that Draco had gotten pregnant with Nott’s child  _after_ the wedding had taken place.

No one had questioned Lucius’s desire for a speedy wedding, and Draco supposed he was grateful for it. 

On the day before their wedding, Theo had snuck into Draco’s room to find Draco on his bed, curled up into a ball, sobbing. Theo sighed, sitting down beside Draco, rubbing small circles on his back.

“Are you ever going to tell me who the father is?” Theo asked. Draco sniffed looking up at his friend and soon to be husband.

“He’s gone, so it’s not like he’ll be any trouble for you,” Draco said.

Theo frowned, “It’s Potter’s isn’t it?” he asked. Draco’s eyes widened and he spluttered trying to find some logical answer that was a believable lie only, he couldn’t lie to Theo. Not on the eve of their nuptials. Draco sobbed, laying his head in Theo’s lap, as the sandy-haired man ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, to comfort him. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry,” he said. Draco closed his eyes clutching his stomach, as Theo pet his hair and he continued to sob.

The wedding was a decidedly quiet affair for a Malfoy wedding. There were few attendees and even fewer press, almost everyone there was directly related in some way and even then the guest list could have fit into Draco’s bathroom quite comfortably. Not that Draco particularly minded. A quiet life after the war was far more than Draco ever could have hoped for.

A week after their wedding, a photograph from the wedding had leaked to the Daily Prophet, where Draco’s thickening midsection had been highlighted, and the speculation began, that Draco’s wedding had occurred so quickly as a plot by the Malfoy’s to cover up their son’s pregnancy. An otherwise ignorable rumor mongering on behalf of the Prophet if not for the anonymous source from within St. Mungo’s confirming that Draco had been spotted leaving the obstetrics ward a month earlier. It didn’t help that the headline the Prophet had chosen for the article was:

**EX-DEATH EATER DRACO MALFOY HIDING BASTARD PREGNANCY**

Draco groaned burying his face in his hands as Theo rubbed his back again, whatever else Draco could say about the whole situation, Theo was taking it remarkably well.

“I’m so sorry about this. I never should have let my father drag you into this,” he said.

Theo smiled waving him off, “Draco how long have we been friends?”

“Since we were born,” Draco replied.

“And in that time when have you ever known me to be bothered by the Prophet?”

Draco smiled weakly, “It’s one thing to not be bothered by them but it’s quite another to be the laughing stock of the entire Wizarding World. They’re trying to say we hoodwinked you into marrying me.”

Theo shrugged, “So long as we know the truth, who cares?”

Draco sighed, laying his head back against Theo’s chest as his husband hugged him from behind. “You’re better to me than I deserve,” Draco said. Theo smiled kissing the top of Draco’s head.

“You deserve everything, love. Now come on, we’ve got to get you to your healer appointment. They’ll be able to know the sex of the baby soon,” he smiled.

“It’ll be a boy,” Draco said.

“Sure of yourself are you?” Theo asked with a smirk, holding out his arm for Draco.

“Malfoy’s have always produced boys. For generations now.”

“Well it won’t be a Malfoy now will it?” Theo asked. Draco sighed, taking his arm. It was still painful to think about his baby’s true heritage.

“No, I suppose it won’t,” Draco said.

* * *

Five months later, and the Prophet had moved on to bigger stories. Draco’s pregnancy was yesterday’s news, much to Draco’s relief. They were now onto hounding Granger and Weasley after a rumor had circulated that the remaining two-thirds of the Golden Trio had received a secret owl from the boy who no longer lived. Draco had avoided the papers like the plague, after that. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a tea, Draco found himself pouring over a potions textbook hoping to get his mastery. It had been Theo’s idea.

“You’re brilliant at potions love,” he’d said. “The worst they can say is no,” fortunately for Draco, a potions Master in Turkey had been willing to take him in, and Draco had simultaneously been learning a sixth language, and his potions mastery.

Draco sighed, rubbing his back, there was no hiding his pregnancy now, the baby boy growing in his stomach, larger and larger every day had taken over and according to Draco’s healer was due to be born any time now. It was earlier than Draco had anticipated, and his mother was still convinced Scorpius would be a Valentine’s baby. Theo had his eye on the end of the month while Lucius believed the baby would be born, just after the first of February. Draco had not dared bet either of them on his own suspicions, Scorpius was restless and frankly, Draco would be surprised if he didn’t go into labor any second now.

Flipping the page on the potions book in front of him, Draco sighed, polishing off the last of his tea, when a knock sounded on the front door of Malfoy Manor, above him. Draco groaned, pulling himself up off the chair, and began to climb the stairs as the knocking continued. The Manor was empty, both of his parents were on holiday, assured in their conviction the baby was not due for some time yet, and Theo at the Ministry. The house elves had all been given clothes by order of Granger and her house elf rights committee, leaving Draco, eight months pregnant, to fend for himself. Draco groaned as he climbed the stairs and made his way into the foyer when the loud knocking sounded again.

“I’m coming,” Draco said, placing a hand on his stomach as he reached the front door, pulling it open.

Draco froze, certain he was imagining things as he took in the man standing before him. “H—Harry?” Draco asked. There was no mistaking him, messy black hair, and emerald green eyes, the same as they’d looked when Draco had last seen him. He looked exhausted and his hair was impossibly messier than Draco remembered, but beyond that, he looked well, and especially not dead. Harry smiled at him.

“Draco,” he said excitedly, making his way toward the blond. Draco pulled back, his hand still wrapped protectively around his protruding stomach. Harry’s eyes followed the movement and he gasped.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked.

“You’re alive?” Draco said by way of reply. Draco felt as though he might have a nervous breakdown then, his heart was racing in his chest and he knew that none of this could be good for the baby, he felt as though he wanted to throw up and his stomach was killing him, and then he felt it. Warm, sticky liquid splashed at Draco’s feet. Draco looked up at Harry. “My water just broke.”

Harry nodded, taking Draco’s hand and walked him over to the floo, shutting the door behind him with a bit of wandless magic. Draco felt ill, Harry was here, and he was holding onto Draco, he felt so real and Draco was convinced he’d completely gone round the twist. Harry grabbed a bit of floo powder and shouted, “St. Mungo’s,” before he climbed into the fireplace with Draco and the two whisked away to the hospital. Draco came out first, and for a brief moment, he was certain he’d imagined Harry’s return as he waddled over to the nurse on duty and informed her he was going into labor. Shortly after that, Harry had stepped out of the floo, and had rushed to Draco’s side. The nurse’s eyes widened as she realized who the man was standing beside Draco. Draco grabbed Harry’s hand, “I need you to contact my parents and tell them I’m here, and then contact my husband, at the Ministry. Theodore Malfoy-Nott.”

“Husband?” Harry repeated as the nurse had transferred Draco to a wheelchair.

“I’ll explain later,” Draco replied. Harry stared after the blond as he was taken up to obstetrics, then made his way back towards the floo to firecall the Ministry. Harry knew it would be a circus the moment the press got ahold of his return, but there was nothing for it, “Theodore Malfoy-Nott’s office,” Harry called out, sticking his head in the flames. A moment later, the office of Theodore Malfoy-Nott came into view. A comfortable office, with antique looking dark furniture and dozens of books packed on his shelves. Theo’s eyes widened as he took in the messy hair and infamous scar, visible even through the flames.

“Bloody hell. I wondered how long it would take you to come back,” he said.

“A lot’s changed since I’ve been gone,” Harry said softly. “Congratulations by the way. On the wedding, and the baby.”

Theo sighed. “Potter, listen. Whatever else you may think about me, I want Draco to be happy, and the one thing I know is that he will never be as happy with me, as he would be with you,” Harry swallowed hard.

“Tell him you couldn’t get a hold of me, and Potter I may not stand in your way, but if you ever leave him like that again, I won’t hesitate to find you myself and destroy you.” Harry nodded.

“I have no intention too,” he said. “Where are his parents?”

“Vacationing in the Malfoy Chateau in France. They go every year around this time.”

“With their son pregnant?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Narcissa was convinced he wasn’t going to give birth until Valentine’s day. Draco assured them he could handle things by himself. He never has one to be told.”

Harry laughed, “You’re telling me. And Theo… thank you for being there for him. Promise me you’ll come around sometime for tea.”

Theo gave him a look then, “I’ll consider it Potter, oh and one last thing, command says you’re relieved from duty,” and with that, the fire call disconnected and Harry prepared to call the Malfoy’s at their Chateau in France. To Harry’s dismay, however, the Malfoy’s proved impossible to get ahold of, and Harry was forced to give up when a tapping at his shoulder had Harry pulling his head out of the flames.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy has asked to see you,” the nurse said.

“Is it over?” he asked. The nurse nodded.

“A perfectly healthy baby boy, with the most remarkable black hair, and silver eyes,” she smiled. “He looks rather like you, actually,” she commented, her eyes twinkling not unlike Dumbledore’s had. It was all Harry could do not to cry as he ran towards the lift to take him up to obstetrics on the third floor. Once there, Harry found a nurse already awaiting his arrival to take him to Draco’s room.

Harry felt tears burning at the corners of his eyes as he stared at Draco lying in the bed holding their son. Draco smiled up at Harry then. “Before I let you hold him, I need to know everything about where the hell you’ve been these last eight months!” Harry sighed. He supposed he owed Draco at least that much.

Sitting down, Harry prepared to explain the best he could. There was a lot Harry  _could_ not explain. Due to the unbreakable vow, he’d agreed to, not the least of which was the nature of his disappearance. It had been an assignment from the Unspeakables who had managed through some bizarre form magic to relay a message to Potter in the in-between of life of death. What he had not been able to say was that the purpose of his mission had been to fake his death to take out as many of the Death Eaters as possible without them ever suspecting. The last on the list had been Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy, but the moment Harry had seen Draco standing there, pregnant, he knew he could never kill him. He’d been terrified when he’d realized that Draco was married to Unspeakable Nott, given the fact he had no intention of killing the blond as ordered, then Nott had told him he was relieved of duty and Harry had felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. 

Though he would not say  _why_ Harry had insisted they go public with their relationship immediately, and their child. Whatever else the Ministry and the Unspeakables would do to the Malfoy’s, they would never harm the other father of Harry Potter’s child. Draco would be safe as long as the world knew of them.


	33. About the Baby... it's yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a series of numbered prompts this one is... about the baby it's yours. Angsty open-ended story.

The last thing Harry Potter expected to see as he approached St. Mungo’s was a very pregnant Draco Malfoy coming out of the lifts. Draco froze.

“Hi,” Harry said trying to look anywhere but at Draco’s stomach.

“Hi,” Draco said quietly. “You look, good.”

“Thanks you uh… you look, healthy,” Harry said awkwardly.

Draco laughed, rubbing his stomach. “That’s a word for it.”

“I didn’t know if I should say anything about it,” Harry admitted, with a shrug.

Draco smiled, “I don’t mind, I just found out it’s a girl.”

“Congrats, how uh, how far along are you?”

“About six months,” Draco replied. Harry nodded.

“Do you… I never heard about a marriage,” Harry said.

“There wasn’t one,” Draco said with a shrug, looking around the room nervously. Harry nodded.

“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. So you’re on your own then?”

Draco gave him a smile, “I’m a big boy. More than capable of handling myself.”

“Oh, I believe it. It’s just, I’m sure it would be nice to be able to have the father in your life.”

Draco shrugged, “I don’t want to bug him, I’m more than capable of handling it,” Harry eyed Draco, not really sure what to say to that. For a moment, neither one spoke, then, just as Harry was about to leave, Draco said the words that would change his life forever. “About the baby,” he said. “It’s yours,” Harry stared dumbstruck, and with that, Draco made his way out of St. Mungo’s leaving a stunned Harry in his wake.


	34. Sectumsempra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst, Harry remembers the worst day of his life but there's much he doesn't know.

Harry still has nightmares about that day, the river of blood coating the bathroom floor, burning behind his retina’s, Moaning Myrtle’s screams, the pained look on Draco’s face as his body lay near lifeless on the floor. Worst of all is the realization that he had nearly murdered the love of his life. The thought haunts Harry more than he ever dared say, but Draco knows his husband’s tells by now. The tender way in which Harry kisses his scars, the way Harry flinches every time he sees Draco bleed or the late night screams that awaken them both. Draco hold’s tight to his husband then, petting his hair, and rocking him back and forth in an effort to calm his sobbing husband. Without fail, Harry will apologize over and over again for the curse. Draco merely shushes him, assuring him he is fine, he’s here, he didn’t die. He never says that sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat with a stabbing pain in his chest, he never says that the sight of his own blood is enough to make Draco sick to his stomach, or that the smell of dittany makes him gag and his heart race. He never tells Harry about the beautiful white light or the redheaded woman with Harry’s eyes who greeted him for a brief moment. In the immediate aftermath, Draco wonders why Lily Potter came to him. It is not until their daughter is born, with flaming red hair, and Harry’s emerald eyes that Draco knows. It’s all he can do not to cry. It’s always been, Harry. He could never admit it to himself before, but he loved Harry even then, and somehow he thinks, Lily knew that and came to Draco to tell him it was not yet his time.

 


	35. Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry get's dirty in the garden, Draco get's dirty in the foyer. Based on art by Ano-ka-ba.

Draco swallowed taking in his shirtless boyfriend. He’d been working in the garden for the better part of the last half hour though it looked rather as though he’d gotten more dirt on him than he’d managed in the ground. Try though he might, however, Draco could seldom resist his boyfriend, even in a state such as this. Harry grinned, making his way towards him.  _How was he always so bloody sexy?_ Draco wondered. Even covered in dirt and mud it was all Draco could do not to sink to his knees right then and there and suck Harry’s cock. Harry gave him a smirk as if reading Draco’s mind.

“Have fun in the garden?” Draco asked.

“Oh yes, the gardenia’s are coming in nicely,” Harry replied. Harry had gotten into gardening shortly after the war as a way to keep himself busy after he’d found that not having to run for his life made him unbearably antsy. Draco let his eyes wander down Harry’s toned tan chest, past his rippling abs and down towards the tenting in his jeans. Draco licked his lips involuntarily at the sight. Harry was nothing if not as insatiable as he was.

“You’re filthy,” Draco said unable to tear his eyes away from Harry’s crotch. Harry smirked, rubbing his hardening length through his jeans, unzipping them slowly. Draco felt his heart speed up as Harry pulled out his thick hard cock, giving it a firm stroke. Draco wanted to protest that Harry needed a shower first, but the sight of precome leaking from the head brought Draco to his knees, taking in Harry’s considerable length as deep as he could go. Harry shuddered above him, fisting his hands in Draco’s hair, letting out a moan as he leaned back against the wall. Draco was nothing if not a master with his tongue, and he loved knowing the effect he had on Harry. His ability to suck his brains out through his cock was a gift that Draco never squandered. He loved the taste of the other man on his lips. The feel of Harry’s considerable girth on his lips, as Harry plundered his mouth. Draco could feel his own cock begin to harden as he swirled his tongue around the head of Harry’s. Harry groaned as Draco sucked in earnest, his desire to bring the other man to orgasm burning in him then.

“Fuck, so good baby. I’m so close,” Harry said. Draco laved his tongue about the head, teasing it the way he knew the other man liked. Harry pulled his cock out of Draco’s mouth, stroking it against his lips. Draco moaned, staring up into Harry’s eyes as Harry wanked himself to orgasm, coming across Draco’s lips and nose. Harry moaned at the sight. Draco lapped the come off his cock, down his hands making sure to grab every last drop. Harry groaned,  _gods Draco knew just how to get to him,_ he thought, wiping up some of his come from Draco’s chin, before feeding it to him. The blond lapped at his fingers eagerly, sucking up every last drop. Harry growled, pulling Draco to his feet, and kissed the blond.

“Mmm, let’s take this to the shower so I can eat your pretty little arse,” Harry said against his lips. Draco moaned, all but running toward’s their bedroom. Harry chuckled, following quickly behind the blond, tearing off his jeans as he went.


	36. Babysitting Teddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco babysit Teddy and talk about the possibility of children of their own. Just fluff.

It was a regular occurrence for Harry and Draco to watch Teddy whenever Andromeda needed a break. The six-year-old metamorphmagus was a handful at the best of times and however much Andromeda adored her grandson raising a child so young at her advancing age had begun to take its toll.

“Have you two ever thought about having kids of your own?” Andromeda asked as Draco held Teddy on his hip. His hair had excitedly changed from turquoise to black to platinum blond, finally settling on a split between the two. “You’re so good with Teddy, you’d be great parents,” she said.

Draco looked at Harry then. They had never really talked about it. The two had been dating for a few years now, and Draco  _knew_ that Harry wanted children, but the subject had always been pushed back because of both of their jobs. Between Harry’s work with the DMLE and Draco’s own with St. Mungo’s the two had little time for anything else. They had barely had time for each other most days, let alone a baby. Harry smiled, “We haven’t really discussed it,” he replied. Andromeda gave the two men a look, her eyes twinkling not unlike Dumbledore’s had. The look never boded well.

“Well no time like the present,” she said. “You two should take Teddy for the week, just to get your feet wet.” Draco’s jaw clenched. The most they had ever had Teddy was a few hours at a time, overnight had always been a hard line as both Harry and Draco often had work, but a whole week? One of them would have to take off, and something told him the Head Auror would have an easier time of it than himself.

“Of course Andi, we’ll help you out,” Harry said with a smile. Draco glared at his boyfriend, but there was nothing for it. Harry had sealed their fates. They would be watching a child for an entire week.

The two had barely made it through the floo when Draco rounded on Harry, his eyes lowered, “A week?” he demanded, his voice impossibly low yet full of barely concealed rage.

“It’s nothing we can’t handle,” Harry replied.

“Unlike you I can’t just waltz out of work whenever. Some of us, didn’t save the wizarding world and are expected to actually  _do_ our jobs.”

Harry sighed, “I do my job,” he said.

“I’m sorry and I know that, but this is a lot for us right now.”

“You do  _want_ kids, don’t you?” Harry asked, suddenly nervous. Draco sighed, he hated when Harry got that sad look in his eyes as if he was expecting disappointing news at any moment.

“Of course I do, I just can’t help but feel it’s not the right time for us.”

“When  _will_ be the right time?” Harry asked.

Draco gave his boyfriend a look then, they had only just moved in together six months ago, both of them wanting to take things slow. “Shouldn’t we get married first?”

“Well that’s a given as far as I’m concerned,” Harry said. “But we haven’t discussed that either.

Draco sighed, he couldn’t argue that point, they hadn’t even discussed marriage yet. Not for a lack of wanting to on Draco’s part, but it had never seemed like the right time. Now standing there with Teddy in his arms, Draco wondered what was  _really_ holding him back. He loved Harry that much he knew, but there was a part of him, a part he didn’t want to acknowledge that was secretly terrified at the idea of having a child with Harry. Of  _marrying_ Harry. News of their relationship had not been received well by the general Wizarding public. And Draco knew if ever they were to marry the headlines would write themselves:

**_Ex-Death Eater Cons Savior into Marriage_ **

There would be all manner of vitriol about Draco’s character, and how he should never be allowed to raise a child with or without Harry, and what if they adopted? Would the Ministry even sign off on such a thing? Surely they would never say no to Harry but seeing Draco’s name on the paper would give them pause. Draco hated that he even had these thoughts. He was a Malfoy for Salazar’s sake, he didn’t care what anyone thought of him. These were peasants, and Draco was a Lord dating a Prince, nothing else mattered. Draco sighed in spite of himself looking at Teddy.

“What do you say, little man, should Harry and I have a baby?” Teddy looked excitedly at Draco then, his hair flashing turquoise.

“YEAH!”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh. “Well then, I guess that’s settled.” Harry grinned, pulling his boyfriend into a hug with Teddy tucked close at his side. Draco blushed. “You realize of course that if we manage to get me knocked up, I’m going to have to quit St. Mungo’s,” Draco hardly  _needed_ to work of course, but he’d wanted to for the sake of giving back to the Wizarding Community for his part in the war. Harry smiled.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he said.

“Easy for you to say, you won’t be the one getting fat for nine months, dealing with magic drain and god knows what else.”

Harry smiled at his boyfriend, “It’ll be worth it.”

Draco couldn’t help but agree. Yes, he supposed it would.


	37. Domestic Drarry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry are adorably domestic, Ron is vaguely disturbed. just fluff. Based on an ask.

Of all of the things Ronald Weasley had expected to witness after the war, his best friend’s relationship with Malfoy,  _of all bloody people_ had never been one of them. Worse still was that they were just so bloody sweet all the time. Gone were the days of Malfoy and Potter, growling at each other, barely resisting the urge to throw a punch in the other’s direction. Now, they were Draco and Harry. Or more often, Dray, or babe, or love. It was enough to make Ron gag. The trouble was, Harry looked  _so_ blissfully happy, happier than Ron had ever seen his best friend. He smiled on a nearly constant basis and the look in his eyes whenever someone would mention Draco was disgustingly sweet. It was unnerving, the way they interacted, but Ron found, he couldn’t be mad about it. How could he? If Malfoy made him happy well, Ron would have to accept that. Which was how, against all odds, Ron found himself standing at Draco’s cubicle at the Ministry, inviting the blond to spend Christmas at the Burrow. Draco raised a perfectly manicured blond eyebrow at Ron’s appearance. It was clear that the blond did not particularly want Ron there any more than Ron wanted to be there, so he thought it was best to simply get it over with.

“I just came by to formally invite you to Christmas at the Burrow. Now that you and Harry are uh… a thing, I thought you might like to come,” Draco eyed Ron then, Ron didn’t like it. Being under the blond’s scrutinizing gaze. He couldn’t help but hope that the prat would rather spend his holiday with his mum at the Manor.

“Thank you, Weasley, I’d love to,” he said. Ron barely resisted the urge to frown.  _No such luck then._

“Great,” he said with a forced smile. “Harry will be able to help you get there and all the time and stuff so er…” Ron didn’t know what else to say then.

Draco nodded, excusing Ron from his cubicle and Ron all but ran as far as he could.  _This was going to be a very long Christmas,_ he thought.

* * *

Harry and Draco arrived, much to Ron’s immense shock, exactly on time. Harry had never been particularly punctual, and Ron had naturally assumed that it would take Draco  _ages_ to get ready on any given day, given his tendency to always look impeccable, though Ron was loathed to admit it.  Sure enough, Draco was dressed to the nines in a black knit jumper and black slacks, while Harry wore jeans, and his Weasley knit jumper. Ron beamed, giving his best friend a hug as Draco stood off to the side, waiting to be allowed entry. Ron wasn’t exactly sure what to do with Draco, so instead, he merely shook his hand.

For his part, Draco pulled a bottle of red wine from his pocket, unshrinking it before handing it to Ron.

“Mother always said it was bad form to go to any party without a gift for the host or hostess,” Draco said with a shrug. It was a Malfoy Manor wine, brewed by the house elves, and a century old. Ron nodded.

“Thank you, I’ll give this to mum,” he said. “Please, won’t you both come in?” Ron made his way into the kitchen to place the bottle of wine next to his mother as Harry and Draco made their way into the living room.

“That’s terribly sweet, who’s that from?” Molly asked.

“Malfoy, don’t ask,” Ron shook his head. He was tempted to pop the bottle open and take a swig. As it was, Molly was giving him a disapproving look.

“Ronald,” she said.

“Don’t start mum, you don’t know what he was like in school.”

“What I  _know_ is, we’re not going to hold him accountable for who he was when he was a child. You weren’t exactly always a perfect little angel young man,” Molly chided. Ron sighed, sneaking out of the kitchen, away from his mother’s prying eyes and stealing an hors-d'oeuvre as he went. “I saw that Ronald!” Molly called after him.

Ron nearly froze as he entered the living room to find Draco practically sitting in Harry’s lap on the couch. Harry’s arms were wrapped around Draco’s waist, holding him tight as the two watched Ginny and Luna play Exploding Snap with George. Neither of whom seemed particularly disturbed by Draco and Harry’s interaction. Percy sat in the corner having an animated discussion with Kingsley, presumably about something terribly boring, and Charlie and Bill were both drinking eggnog and discussing Quidditch. Hermione was nowhere to be found, or at least, that’s what Ron had thought. A second glance at the couch revealed that Hermione had actually been having a conversation with Draco, while they watched the Exploding Snap game. Harry was playing with Draco’s, hair which had grown considerably, and Ron didn’t know what to do. It would be cute if it weren’t so nauseating, and it weren’t, Ron shuddered,  _Malfoy._

To Ron’s great surprise, Malfoy was nothing if not courteous at the dinner, he was polite and thanked Mrs. Weasley graciously, and Ron even found he was not a bad conversationalist. Though he was often deep in conversation with Hermione, discussing, of all things, goblin tax law. Bill cut in several times, with his own thoughts on things, and though it was unnerving, to say the least, Ron was happy that Draco seemed so widely accepted. After dinner, Draco smiled and stood.

“I’ll clear,” he said, grabbing several plates. Ron’s eyes widened.

“You don’t have to do that dear,” Molly said. Draco merely smiled.

“Harry darling, could you grab a few plates for me,” he said. Harry smiled and nodded.

“Of course love,” he said, getting to his feet and grabbing several of the plates Draco had missed, the two disappearing into the kitchen a moment later.

“Okay, that was just strange,” Ron said, finally able to voice his opinions.

“I think it’s sweet,” Molly replied.

“I mean it’s kind of odd,” Charlie said. “Why wouldn’t he just use magic?”

“Maybe he wanted an excuse to get Harry alone so they could snog,” George said. Ron shuddered at the thought.

“Please, not so close to dessert.”

“Oh don’t be such a prude,” Percy said. Ron rounded on his brother, eyes wide. “They’re rather perfect for one another. I remember them at school, barely concealed tension,” he said. George nodded at that, and Ron merely stared.

“Have you all gone mad? This is Malfoy we’re talking about here.” Ron shouted.

“Ronald, keep your voice down,” Molly chided.

“I hate to say it, but he’s changed Ron,” Hermione said. “Draco’s not the same person he was even a few years ago. And he’s  _good_ for Harry.”

Ron snorted, though it was hard to deny that Hermione had a point. It was clear Draco made him happy but he just couldn’t understand,  _why him?_ Ron sighed, he knew he was being a child. Selfish even, because while he wanted Harry to be happy, he just wished he could be happy with literally anyone else.

Molly got to her feet, “I’ll get dessert,” she said, making her way into the kitchen. Harry was leaning against the kitchen counter, holding Draco in his arms, as Draco lay his head against Harry’s chest. Harry was considerably taller than the blond now, and his chin rested comfortably on top of Draco’s head.

“Boys?” Molly said quietly, Draco turned his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“Sorry Mrs. Weasley,” he said wiping his eyes.

Molly looked up at Harry then. “We just got word Lucius died in Azkaban,” he said. “The letter came right before we arrived, but Draco was insistent that we still come tonight.”

“Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry,” Molly said with a frown. Draco tucked his face back into Harry’s chest. “I’ll just get the dessert then. You two take as long as you need,” she said, making her way over to the counter where several desserts were waiting. Molly levitated the treats out of the kitchen and made her way back to the dining room. “Not one word,” she said to Ron as she began serving their desserts. 

For a long time Harry and Draco remained in the kitchen, and when at last they returned, no one asked where they had been. Draco’s solemn face said enough. Harry held tight to his hand, pulling Draco back into his lap as the two enjoyed a quiet dessert. Ron sighed, whatever else he thought about Draco, or their situation, he couldn’t deny, Harry loved Draco dearly. 


	38. Powerful Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is really powerful? How powerful? He can summon Draco from across a room. He didn't mean to but you know how it is. Fluff.

“You’re exceptionally powerful Auror Potter,” the words had been spinning around Harry’s head for the last few hours. Ever since the Ministry healer had examined him. It was all apart of Auror training. Every recruit would have their magical strength tested. “Perhaps the strongest I’ve ever seen. No wonder you were able to defeat he who shall not be named,” the witch said. Harry had blushed a little at the compliment, but he couldn’t stop thinking about just how powerful he might be.

It was, at the pub later that evening, that Harry found himself contemplating how best to test these powers, and three fire whiskey’s later, having spotted a certain blond across the room, dressed in ridiculously fashionable black robes that made him look like a sexy blond version of Professor Snape, Harry knew what he wanted to try.

“Accio Draco,” he whispered, not pulling out his wand. Seconds later, the blond went flying across the room and into Harry’s arms.

“What the bloody buggering hell was that!” Draco demanded, turning around to find Harry smiling sheepishly at him. Draco glared.

“Potter, what is the meaning of this? How did… DID YOU JUST ACCIO ME?!” he demanded. Harry scratched the back of his neck. “Why?”

“It, seemed like a good idea at the time?” Harry replied though it was more of a question than a statement.

Draco snorted, “Oh bloody likely. Since  _when_ do you just accio people? You could have just  _asked_ me to come by like a normal human being. But oh no. Not the great and powerful Potter, no you had to summon me across the room like some blond demon. Did you even use your wand? No of course not. You great sodding show off. I don’t know why I’m surprised you know…” somewhere in the middle of his rant which Harry found way too charming for words, Harry decided to cut him off, by pressing his lips to Draco’s silencing the blond. Draco gasped, his eyes widening, but didn’t pull away. Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Draco groaned, and giving in, deepened the kiss. Much to Harry’s delight. “You’re lucky I have a thing for power Potter,” Draco hissed against his lips. Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at that.


	39. Best Big Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry comes home after a long day at work, and Draco and Teddy have a surprise for him.   
> All the fluff.

Harry was eager to get home, it had been an exhausting day at the DMLE and Harry couldn’t wait to get home to his boys. Stretching, Harry stood up and made his way over to the lifts, and down to the first floor for the Ministry floos. Grabbing a pinch of the powder, Harry stepped into the hearth and tossed the floo powder calling out “Potter-Malfoy house!” Green flames erupted all around him and Harry vanished in a swirl of green. Moments later, Harry stepped out of the fireplace, landing considerably better than he had in his youth, no doubt thanks to his husband. No sooner had Harry stepped out of the floo than Harry found himself with an armful of Teddy, the excited five-year-old hugging Harry’s legs tight, his hair an bright platinum blond. Harry smiled, ruffling Teddy’s hair before he bent down to give the boy a proper hug.

“Dad, dad, look at the cool shirt father made me,” Teddy said excitedly. Harry looked down staring at the emerald green shirt. Harry looked up as Draco stood in the doorway to the living room, smiling at the scene before him. Harry eyed Draco, rereading Teddy’s shirt, willing to make it make sense. As it was, Harry was very tired, and the words held little meaning. Then out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw it. A subtle movement of Draco placing his hand protectively on his stomach. Harry shot up, taking Teddy with him as he ran to Draco’s side, wrapping his husband in his free arm, tears falling down his cheeks as he kissed his husband.

“When?” Harry asked.

Draco smiled, “This morning. I saw my healer. She said I’m nearly four months along,” Draco replied. Harry grinned, squeezing Teddy between them, as he stared at his shirt again.  _Best Big Brother in the World_ it read. Harry couldn’t help but grin as he kissed Teddy’s forehead.

“Can you believe it Teddy bear you’re going to be a big brother!” Harry felt like screaming and crying all at once. Draco was pregnant. With  _his_ baby, Harry smiled kissing Draco’s lips, holding him tight, he never wanted to let his little family go.

“Daad,” Teddy whined, struggling to get free. “Lemme go. I want to play,” Harry laughed, placing Teddy down before he wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist.

“Gods you look so beautiful,” Harry said softly. “How did I get so lucky?”

Draco blushed, standing on his tip toes to kiss Harry’s forehead. “I’ve got to go make dinner,” he said.

“Oh no, you’re not doing any of the cooking for the next five months.” Draco laughed.

“Harry I’m not even showing yet. I have a few months yet before I’m helpless,” Draco said. 

Harry shook his head, pulling Draco onto the couch with him. “Here let me rub your feet. Are you tired, do you want anything?”

Draco smirked, “Love, I’m fine, why can’t you believe me?”

“I just want to take care of you,” Harry said, holding his husband tight. Draco sighed happily.

“You’re the one working constantly and you want to take care of me?”

“You do take care of me. You help raise Teddy, you’re carrying our baby, you’ve made our home a beautiful place, and you’ve got the most wicked tongue I’ve ever experienced.”

Draco gasped. “Harry.” 

Harry grinned leaning in to whisper in Draco’s ear, “Why don’t we let Andi watch Teddy for the weekend, so we can spend time, just the two of us? Hmm? I want to properly celebrate, just the two of us,” he hissed. “Like to get you spread out beneath me and rim you into oblivion.” Draco whimpered.

“Harry,” he purred. Harry kissed over Draco’s neck.

“Mmm, I’ll talk to Andi,” Harry said, standing up to go to the floo. Draco sighed rubbing his stomach then.

“See, I told you your dad would be excited about you,” Draco whispered to his stomach.


	40. Pissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Treacletrvts: Draco only gets pissed around people he trusts. Harry should consider himself lucky. Fluff.

Draco was pissed, he’d started sometime around five pm immediately after getting out of work and had barely stopped at nearly two, despite Harry’s insistence he needed to slow down.

“You know why men suck?” Draco said, downing another fire whiskey, or at least he’d attempted too. He’d managed to spill a quarter of it down his front, though it was clear he hadn’t noticed. “Bloody stinking rat bastard. I hope he rots in hell!”

Harry sighed. He’d been listening to Draco yell about his ex-boyfriend for several hours, and though he was impressed by how well Draco could speak without slurring, he was rather miserable. “I’m sorry,” Harry said.

Draco shook his head. “’S fine. Not like he was even good in bed. Couldn’t even properly fuck, I need a man who can throw me down and really give it to me,” Draco said taking another sip. “You know? Like just,” he thrust his hand with the drink in it, sloshing a good portion of it over his fist.

“Let’s put the drink down,” Harry said, taking it out of Draco’s hand. Draco waved him off.

“Gods I haven’t been shagged properly in months, you know? Just like, throw me against the wall and fuck my brains out,” Draco drawled. Harry blushed furiously. “Mmm, you could do it I bet. All those rippling Auror muscles,” Draco purred dragging his finger over Harry’s bicep. “Bet you could pin me down and just fuck me into incoherence. Until I couldn’t stand for a week.”

“I think it’s time we get you home,” Harry said.

Draco grinned, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck, “Offering to take me home already Auror Potter? How considerate of you,” he winked, or rather, blinked at Harry. Harry sighed, paying Draco’s tab before he stood. Draco followed, his legs buckling beneath him, the first real sign of just how pissed Draco really was.

“Stupid bloody slippery floor,” Draco whined, attempting and failing to get up. Harry sighed, bending down and tossed Draco over his shoulder. Draco grinned, burying his face in Harry’s back. “Mmm, you smell good Harry,” he said. “So big and strong just carrying me, take me back to my flat and fuck me, Potter,” Draco ordered.

Harry sighed, as the two exited the bar and turned on his heel disapparating with a crack, a moment later, they landed in front of Draco’s flat and Harry knocked on the door. Draco was giggling, or whining, Harry couldn’t tell which. The door opened and Pansy Parkinson eyed Harry as he held Draco. Harry merely stepped through the door to deposit Draco on his bed. Draco landed with an oof, never unwrapping his arms and legs from Harry like a great drunk octopus.

“No, stay with me,” Draco said wrapping another arm around Harry’s shoulders just as the dark-haired man managed to get another one free. “Please Harry, I need you,” he whined.

“What you need is sleep. And a stiff hangover potion come morning,” Harry added. Draco whined but eventually with some amount of effort, Harry managed to pull the blond off of him and stepped back out into the living room. Pansy smirked, as Harry flushed.

“Thank you,” Pansy said. Harry disappeared through the front door to the sound of Pansy’s cackling laughter as she shut the door behind him. Harry only hoped she would never mention it again.


	41. Fighting Drarry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry get into a fight and Harry storms off, worried, Draco finds Harry in a bar several hours later, pissed, Harry doesn't recognize Draco but he does tell him how great his boyfriend is. Based on an ask. Drunken fluff.

Draco glared, as Harry pulled on his coat, “Where do you think you’re going, we’re not finished here!” he yelled.

Harry merely eyed the blond, it was easily their worst fight yet in their short time together, and Harry knew if he stayed he would say something he would likely regret later. Some days Draco was still as impossible as ever. The fight had started over house elves of all things and had quickly escalated into Draco shouting that Harry never made an effort to learn anything about his life.

“I’m going out,” Harry said, as he opened the door to their flat, and stepped out, letting the door slam shut behind him. Draco glared, wanting to shout at the other man as he went. He was furious,  _how dare Potter just leave in the middle of an argument,_ he thought angrily. Draco was tempted to go after him, but his Malfoy pride would never allow it. Even to get the last word in. Draco would have to wait.

By midnight, however, when Harry still hadn’t returned, Draco had begun to worry. It wasn’t like him to stay out this long Draco thought. He had tried to convince himself that Harry was perfectly fine, that perhaps he’d gotten a little too pissed and decided to stay the night with Ron and Hermione, but upon firecalling the pair, Draco found himself more worried than before, for Harry  _wasn’t_ with them. Pulling on his coat, Draco apparated to Harry’s usual haunts, first the Leaky Cauldron.

The darkened pub was oddly lively despite the late hour, and Draco looked around, sighing with relief as he spotted the familiar messy black head of his boyfriend. Draco smiled, as he made his way over to the bar and sat down beside him.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Draco asked, with a soft smile. Harry turned towards him, with a soft sort of smile.

“No thanks.”

Draco frowned, “Come on, we better get you home.”

Harry shook his head, “Thanks but, I’ve already got a boyfriend,” Harry said.

“Harry, what are you talking about?” Draco asked. The dark-haired man stared at Draco, blinking first his left eye then his right.

“You seem nice and all, and you’re very pretty. But I have a wonderful, intelligent, witty,  _impossible_ boyfriend back home, who I worry I might have screwed things up with, with my big mouth,” Harry said, taking another sip of his fire whiskey.

Draco sighed. “You didn’t screw things up.”

“I did,” Harry whined. “It’s just that, sometimes our history gets the better of us. We spent so much time fighting when we were younger and I just…” Harry sighed. “I really do love him. I just wish I knew why he insists on pushing me away sometimes.”

“Maybe he’s scared,” Draco replied barely above a whisper. “Because loving you is the easiest thing he’s ever done, and it terrifies him. Because so much has been hard for him. But you just feel so natural. So perfect and he doesn’t know how to handle it, so sometimes he’s dramatic, and he lashes out because it’s the only way he feels he can protect himself.”

Harry stared at him then, smiling to himself. “You’re very smart. Like my Dray. Gods, he’s so wonderful. I wish you could meet him. He’s secretly very nice, but don’t let him hear me say that. He  _hates_ when people say he’s nice. He pretends to be a prat but really he’s a big old softy.”

“Is that so?” Draco was rather amused by this side of Harry.

“Oh yeah,” Harry said finishing off his drink.

“You really should get home, I’m sure your boyfriend misses you very much. Would you like some help getting to the floo?”

Harry shook his head getting to his feet and waved Draco off. “I’ll be fine. Can’t splinch in a floo,” he giggled. “But thank you, pretty stranger,” he said, and with that, Harry made his way towards the floo.

Draco sighed, watching his boyfriend vanish in a swirl of green flames, then disapparated back to their apartment. When Harry returned, he wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck and kissed the blond deeply. Draco moaned. “Gods I love you,” Harry whispered in his ear. Draco sighed.

“I love you to honey, and I’m sorry.” 

Harry shook his head, “’S my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Draco smiled kissing his boyfriend’s forehead and ushered him back to their bedroom. Harry yawned, curling up into the bed beside his boyfriend and fell fast asleep.


	42. Black Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's disappearing, Harry wants to find out where. 8th year fluff. Based on an ask.

Draco Malfoy was up to something. Harry was certain of it. He was always disappearing in the middle of class, and on more than one occasion he’d left the Great Hall early during dinner, stuffing bits of salad and carrots into his pocket.

“Maybe he’s just hungry,” Ron tried. “It’s not as if he’s going to attempt to resurrect Voldemort with a bit of old lettuce is he?” he had meant it as a joke, but the look on Harry’s face made it clear that Harry wasn’t amused. Ron sighed, “Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath, watching as his friend stalked off after the blond.

For his part, Draco was completely oblivious to Potter’s obsession, Draco had his own little obsession to concentrate on. A fluffy black rabbit, by the name of Harold.  _No relation._ Draco had taken to sneaking Harold bits of vegetables from the Great Hall to the Room of Requirement.

“Gotta keep you big and strong,” Draco whispered to the rabbit smiling as he hopped around on the floor, nibbling bits of vegetables as he went. Draco sighed. Harold the rabbit made him the happiest and most carefree Draco had felt in a long time. Even if he  _did_ require quite a bit of attention. Draco let the bunny feed, then picked it up placing the fluffy creature on his chest, stroking his long black ears and down his back towards his soft tail. Draco yawned, he’d woken rather early this morning, hoping to see Harold before he went to breakfast and now he was terribly tired. Continuing to stroke the rabbit’s fur as it lay across his chest, Draco allowed his eyes to fall closed as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Harry  _knew_ Draco was just beyond the door of the Room of Requirement, though he wondered how he could be in there after everything. Harry paced the outside,  _I need to see Draco Malfoy_ he thought at the building, moments later a door appeared, and Harry made his way towards it.

“What are you playing at Mal…” Harry froze, his angry words dying on his lips as he took in the sight of the sleeping Draco and the rabbit lying comfortably on his chest. Harry gasped. Whatever Harry had expected to greet him on the other side of the door, the scene that greeted him had never been it. Draco hummed in his sleep, a contented sound that made Harry’s heart leap in his chest.  _Gods, he’s beautiful when he’s asleep_ Harry thought.  _Where did_ that  _come from?_ He wondered. Harry shook his head sneaking out the door to the Room of Requirement, trying not to think too hard on the sleeping Draco Malfoy and his furry friend.


	43. A Very Drarry Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What started as a bedtime story for a friend became a lovely fluffy story of the day Harry and Draco wed.

* * *

The most magical day of Draco and Harry’s life began with Draco wrapped in his fiance’s arms, curled against the larger man’s broad chest. Draco awoke with a soft sigh, as sunbeams trickled in through the window of their flat.  _Today’s the day,_ Draco thought.  _The day I finally get to marry the love of my life._ Never in his twenty-six years had Draco allowed himself to hope for such happiness as he now felt, watching the sun’s rays cascade over Harry’s skin as the other man slept. The world was quiet and still and Draco was reluctant to awaken his future husband. A quick Tempus revealed it was still early, and it would likely be at least another hour before their wedding party came to pull the two lovebirds out of bed and to their respective corners of Malfoy Manor to prepare for their wedding.

Draco yawned, looking around his bedroom, staring at the silver dress robes he’d picked out for himself as they hung in his closet. Draco nestled himself further into Harry’s arms, letting the warmth of the other man wash over him. In just a few short hours Draco would become, Draco Malfoy-Potter. After so many years, it was finally his.   
To Draco’s dismay, however, no sooner had he awoken to snuggle into the warmth of his love, than his floo had roared to life and outstepped Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger.

“Rise and shine boys,” Pansy trilled. “It’s time to get ready.” Draco groaned, pulling a pillow over his face in an effort to shield himself. His protection pillow vanished from his face, followed shortly thereafter by his and Harry’s duvet, and suddenly Draco was forced to confront his best friend, and her girlfriend, both determined to force Draco out of the warmth of his bed. Harry groaned from beside him, and Pansy shot him a stinging jinx. 

Harry shot up. “Bloody hell!” he yelled. Pansy merely grinned. “Good morning sunshine. We’re here to collect the bride,” she said. 

Draco glared at the implication as Pansy pulled him to his feet. “Neither of us is the bride, that’s the whole point,” Draco growled. 

“Oh stuff it,” Pansy smiled, kissing his cheek. Hermione moved to grab his robes, and before Draco had even a moment to try and kiss Harry goodbye, the two women had pulled him into the floo and Draco was gone in a swirl of green flames.

Harry blinked, staring at the spot where Draco, Pansy, and Hermione had just been. The trio was quickly replaced however by Blaise and Ron who grinned in their excitement. “Time to get you ready mate,” Ron said, pulling Harry out of bed. 

Harry groaned, “Can’t I get five more minutes? It’s not even half seven." 

Blaise shook his head, "We haven’t a moment to lose. You’re marrying a Malfoy. You’ve got to look presentable. Lucius will want you to do something about your atrocious hair." 

Harry glared. "Draco likes my hair,” he insisted. Ron and Blaise shared a look, both of them shaking their head. 

“Right, off to the shower with you first and foremost,” Blaise said. “Then after that, we’re tackling that mop,” Blaise said pointing to Harry’s hair.   
Harry groaned, doing as he was told, padding into the en suite bathroom to shower, leaving Ron and Blaise behind in his bedroom. Harry didn’t want to think about what the two of them might get up to and he only hoped they’d be done by the time he finished with his shower. Twenty minutes later, Harry emerged from his shower feeling much more lively than he had before. Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry stepped back into the bedroom, draped in only a towel.

“You can open your eyes you prat, we’re dressed,” Ron said teasingly. “Unfortunately,” Blaise muttered under his breath. Ron elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs and Harry couldn’t help but only squint one eye open. It would not do to find out the hard way. When he had determined they were appropriately dressed, Harry sat in front of Draco’s vanity, with trepidation. Blaise appeared behind him in the mirror, comb at the ready. Ron watched in anticipation as Blaise unscrewed the cap on a bottle of Sleakeazy and poured a glob of it into Harry’s still wet hair. Running his comb through it. He’d made it all the way to the middle when the comb broke in Blaise’s fist. Blaise growled. Grabbing a stronger comb, and more Sleakeazy, Blaise prepared to go to battle. He would not lose to Harry Potter’s hair. He was a Slytherin dammit. No sooner had he had this thought however than the second comb broke in his fist.“Fuck it,” Blaise growled, tossing the comb away. It was clear there was nothing for it, and Blaise had bigger fish to fry. 

Getting Harry put together proved remarkably easier than either Ron or Blaise had expected. It was still early by the time they had pulled him into his robes and managed to make him look presentable, despite his atrocious hair. Harry stared at himself in the full-length mirror, whistling to himself. Draco had picked out the black robes himself. Harry had to admit, his fiance had excellent taste. 

“Mum’s gonna cry,” Ron said as he stood behind Harry in the mirror, wrapping his arm around his best mate’s shoulder. Harry smiled at his friend. 

“Thanks for being there for me mate,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Ron’s shoulders, pulling his friend in for a hug. He could hear Ron starting to tear up and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Come on now, best get down to greet the extended fam,” Blaise said. “The Malfoy’s are vast,” and with that, Harry found himself following Blaise out of the room, down the stairs towards the foyer where Lucius and Narcissa, dressed in their own best robes, Lucius in navy blue and Narcissa in emerald, greeted their guests. Harry swallowed, preparing for Lucius’s disapproving glare as he entered, but it never came. Harry supposed there were too many witnesses, after all, Lucius was hardly a foolish man. Whatever his personal thoughts on Harry or his parentage, Draco’s marriage to the boy who lived was nothing if not advantageous to the family. Not that Draco cared about such things, he was marrying Harry for love, not politics. Lucius was not so convinced. 

“You look wonderful Harry, really,” Narcissa Malfoy said. Harry grinned, offering the witch a low bow as he kissed the back of her hand. Narcissa smiled, and Harry was sure he could see an almost imperceptible twitch in Lucius’s jaw. Harry smirked counting that as a win. 

By a quarter to nine, Harry felt as though he’d shaken more hands of Draco’s extended family than he’d met in his entire life up until that moment. Harry had wanted a lowkey wedding, as had Draco frankly, but Lucius had been insistent that the wedding be over the top and flashy. The  _height,_ of Malfoy overabundance. 

Harry couldn’t be mad at it, whatever else he thought of the Malfoy family at large, Harry  _loved_ Draco. And for him, the only thing that mattered was his soon to be husband.  _Husband,_ Harry thought with a smile. the procession of people moved to the ballroom, and Harry made his way toward the front where the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt stood. Harry sucked in a deep breath, willing himself not to be worried as the wedding march began to play, and the crowd stood, turning towards the back of the ballroom where Draco stood. Pansy and Blaise stood in front of him, looking impeccable in their own emerald green dress robes, and his mother held onto his arm with a bright grin. It had been Draco’s idea not to follow with that particular tradition, insisting Narcissa walk him down the aisle instead of Lucius. 

_He looks stunning,_ Harry thought as he watched the blond gliding.  _So beautiful, and all mine,_ Harry’s heart soared.  _This was it,_ he thought. The moment he had been waiting for.  As Harry stared into the brilliant grey eyes of his lover, all fear left him. Harry felt invincible like he could take on twelve Dark Lords as long as Draco was by his side. Narcissa beamed at Harry as the two reached the front of the ballroom and the wedding began. 

It was, utterly magical, and Harry knew, he was the luckiest wizard in the world. 


	44. His Secret Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius Malfoy starts his first year at Hogwarts, unassuming and yet, looking so much like his father, only know one knows one of them, is Harry Potter. Fluff? Based on an ask.

1 September 2010

“Scorpius Malfoy,” the headmistress called out. Harry sat up a little straighter in his seat then, he hadn’t even known Malfoy  _had_ a child, much less one old enough to go to Hogwarts. Harry half expected a little blond haired boy to appear and make his way towards the sorting hat, but instead, a boy with jet black hair, and rectangular glasses appeared then, making his way towards the stool with the sorting hat placed upon it. Harry stared, it felt like looking into a mirror that somehow looked into the past, Harry thought, though Scorpius was considerably more well-fed than Harry had been, and his eyes were the same brilliant grey as Malfoy’s. Harry leaned in, trying to figure out what the hat might say.

“Hmm, another Malfoy, eh? ” the sorting hat said as soon as it was placed on Scorpius’s head. “Brilliant mind much like your father, but a brave heart like your other father. Curious, there is cunning sure, but there is so much more. I think I know where you should be placed,” The hat said. Harry watched the whole thing intently, even from his vantage point at the staff table, Harry hadn’t been able to make out the hats words until. “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat yelled. Scorpius looked terribly uncomfortable, and his new house seemed rather unenthusiastic at his placement. Harry clapped excitedly, hoping to rouse his house into supporting the boy. Several students began to clap and in short order, following Harry’s lead, the rest of his house began to cheer for Scorpius. Harry sighed with relief.

After dinner, and having his Head Boy show the new students to Gryffindor tower, Harry all but ran to his room just off the tower and was just about to compose a letter when he decided it was far too urgent to wait, besides, Malfoy could decide to ignore him. Stepping over to the fireplace, Harry bent down and called for Malfoy Manor. Seconds later, a house elf answered. “Mister Harry Potter, sir, what can Mimsy be doing for you?”

“Is Draco Malfoy in?” he asked.

“Yes sir, I be getting him for you right away,” the house elf said vanishing with a crack. Harry sighed, staring around the room for a bit while he waited, moments later, a pair of well-polished black dragon hide boots appeared before the flame. Harry looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing over him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Potter?” Draco asked.

“Come through,” Harry growled, stepping back. It wasn’t a question. Draco sighed, and stepped through the floo, appearing seconds later in Harry’s sitting room. 

“This is a garish shade of Gryffindor red, isn’t it? How utterly predictable,” Draco said with a sneer.

Harry eyed him. Draco looked exactly as he remembered him, the summer after the war, just before Harry had gone off to become an Auror. The two had shared a single night together, after far too many cocktails, and when he’d awoken, Draco was gone. Harry had almost thought he’d dreamt the whole thing, the only proof of their night together was the scent of sex that still lingered in the air when Harry awoke.

“Why does your son look like me?” Harry demanded.

“How do you know about Scorpius? Where are we?” he demanded.

“I asked you a question first,” Harry demanded. Draco sighed. “Is he mine?”

“Potter don’t be absurd. You think you’re the only bloke I’ve slept with in the last decade?”

“Spare me your sex life, I asked if Scorpius was my son.”

“I,” Draco swallowed. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth. Why did you hide him from me?” Draco tried and failed to come up with something that didn’t tell Harry the whole truth, but staring into those piercing emerald eyes, Draco found it impossible to hide the truth.

 “I was doing you a favor,” he snapped.

“What? How could you even say such a thing?” Harry demanded.

Draco sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands, as he forced himself to sit in the overstuffed red sofa beside the fireplace in Harry’s room. “By the time I figured out I was pregnant you were training to become an Auror and I was in France working on my Potions Mastery. I came back and I happened to run into Astoria who was an old family friend, who I got to agree to marry me and pretend she was carrying the baby. My parents could never know the truth of course, though I think my mother suspects. Astoria happened to have dark hair so I knew I could pass Scorpius off as ours for a little while.”

“Why?”

“Because!” Draco said. “It would have ruined me! It would have ruined you!”

“What?”

“Do you have any idea the bullshit I’ve faced from the press since the war? If they caught wind of the fact I’d been knocked up by you they’d claim I’d Imperiused you and gotten myself knocked up to trap you. Then you, noble savior of the Wizarding World would want to take care of the baby because no matter what you are ridiculously good, and kind, and then I would have felt like an idiot because you would only be there because it was the right thing to do. It would have spoiled any chance at happiness you could have had, so  _I_ did what was right for my son and myself. Astoria was,” Draco paused, clearing his throat. “A great mother for him, while she could be. She never asked questions, she never asked who he was that had impregnated me and she never ever treated Scorpius like he was anything less than her blood.”

“Does he know?”

“Of course not. As far as Scorpius knows I’m his only father.”

“He’s a Gryffindor,” Harry said.

“How could you possibly know that?” Draco demanded, looking around the room once more, something about the place looked familiar, it felt so much like coming home. 

“I left the Aurors about a year after joining. I decided I hated it. So Minerva gave me a position here at Hogwarts. I got to be the new Defense teacher and the new Gryffindor Head of house.”

“A Gryffindor Malfoy?” Draco exclaimed. “I knew I should have sent him to Beauxbatons. Good thing father isn’t alive to see this.”

Harry laughed, “You know Draco I would have married you and raised Scorp. Not just because it was the right thing to do because I wanted a family.”

“I’m a former Death Eater, surely the boy who lived could…” but Draco’s words died on his lips as Harry bent down and pressed his lips to Draco’s. Draco gasped, letting Harry kiss him. It felt so right, so perfect, and beautiful and Draco wondered why he had ever tried to deny himself this. Why he had ever tried to pretend as though he could be happy without this?

Draco sighed in Harry’s embrace. “I want you,” Harry whispered. “I want to be our son’s father.” Draco nodded as he got to his feet. Harry grinned wrapping his arms around the blond’s waist to pull him flush against him. “I want to marry you too.”

“A little soon don’t you think?”

“Eventually,” Harry said with a grin. “I’ve got a whole eleven years to catch up with both of you on.” Draco sighed as Harry lifted him into his arms, carrying him to his bed. It was the happiest Draco could ever remember being in a very long time. 


	45. His Secret Son 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested, a continuation of the story from Scorpius's perspective.

_Professor Potter was staring at him again,_ it had become an unnerving reality for Scorpius Malfoy since he’d arrived at Hogwarts less than a week earlier. That, combined with nearly everyone who insisted he looked like the man. Scorpius snorted, sure they shared black hair and a penchant for glasses, but he didn’t see how having dark hair and glasses made him any more like Professor Potter than any other professor currently working at Hogwarts, many of whom also wore glasses. In fact, save for his grandfather’s insistence that  _no one in the family had ever needed them before,_ Scorpius knew it was rather common to need glasses. He had begged his father to let him get a corrective spell cast and yet Draco would give him that misty-eyed look and pretend as though he hadn’t heard him.

“You know that’s his other dad,” Scorpius overheard a girl whispering behind him, in class.

“You mean, Harry Potter and  _Draco Malfoy_?” the other girl hissed, barely able to conceal her disgust at the very idea. Scorpius turned around, glaring at the girls who were whispering.

“If you have something to say, say it to my face,” he snapped. “Otherwise shut the hell up. I’m trying to study.” The girls’ eyes widened and Scorpius turned around, and nearly leaped as he came face to face with Professor Potter.

“Mr. Malfoy, something you care to share with the rest of the class?” he asked. Scorpius lowered his eyes at the man.

“No,” he said, through clenched teeth.

“No,  _sir,”_  Harry corrected.

“There’s no need to call me sir professor,” Scorpius replied. Professor Potter looked taken aback by that and for a brief moment, he could have sworn he saw the faintest glimmer of a smirk from the man before he sighed and turned on his heel and made his way back to the front of the class. He was going to get to the bottom of this, he decided, trying to take notes and ignore the whispers that had only increased since Professor Potter had appeared and not taken house points. Despite his insolence.

Class ended and Scorpius stayed behind, waiting for the rest of his classmates to leave before he approached Professor Potter’s desk. “Is there some reason you’ve been watching me as though you expect me to do something rotten?” Scorpius demanded, approaching Professor Potter’s desk. The professor looked up from the papers he’d been grading.

“Sorry?”

“Is what everyone’s been whispering true?” he demanded, arms folded across his chest. He didn’t even know why he’d asked, it wasn’t as if he  _believed_ the whispers that surrounded him. They also said his father was Voldemort’s right hand, among  _other_ things.

Professor Potter laughed, “Merlin you look so much like your father when you make that face,” he smiled. “I’m afraid I don’t know what rumors are going about the school though.” Scorpius rolled his eyes, he didn’t believe the man for a second. How could  _he_ of all people not have heard? “Despite what you may think, rumors have been circulating this school about me for longer than I can remember. Forgive me it’s hard to keep up in my advancing age,” the professor chuckled again, but Scorpius was  _not_ amused.

“Everyone keeps insisting that you are somehow my dad or something.”

Professor Potter sighed, “And what do you think Mr. Malfoy?”

“My father is my father, and my mother...” Scorpius refused to cry, even when thinking about his mother. He was a Malfoy after all, and Malfoy’s  _did not_ cry. Grandfather always said so. Professor Potter frowned, but otherwise said nothing, it was almost as if he  _wanted_ to be Scorpius’s father, he thought. Scorpius shook the thought out of his head. “Are you and father, dating?” he asked suddenly.

Professor Potter blushed crimson at the question, and Scorpius  _knew_ his answer. Whatever the sorting hat had said to the contrary, Scorpius was more Slytherin than anything, Scorpius froze.  _The sorting hat. It had mentioned his other father’s heart._ “Merlin!” he said staring at the dark haired man. “It’s true.” Professor Potter’s eyes widened, “B-but how?”

“I think that’s something you should ask your father. He’ll be coming up this weekend actually,” Professor Potter said.

“This weekend? Father’s coming here? Why?”

“It’s not important,” Professor Potter said quickly. “Now, off you go, you wouldn’t want to be late to your next class,” he said all but shoving him out the door. Scorpius was suspicious, yet as he stood on the other side of Harry Potter’s door a few things were sliding into place, not the least of which was a conversation he’d remembered overhearing between his grandparents several years earlier, around the same time he’d begun to need glasses.

“Mark my words Cissy, he’s hiding something,” his grandfather had said.

“Oh Lucius, be reasonable, why on earth would Draco hide…”

“He has  _his_ hair. Pitch black, untamable, and spectacles.  _Spectacles._ Not a single Malfoy in history has ever worn spectacles.”

“Lucius, he’s just lost his wife, do you really think  _now_ is the time to interrogate him?” Narcissa had asked.

“When do you suggest? When he’s already shacked up with that miserable half-blood? Salazar, Cissy, do you know what this means? Scorpius isn’t even a pureblood,” his grandfather had bemoaned. “He wouldn’t even be a proper heir!”

His grandmother had sighed, “Do sit down, darling, you don’t need to exacerbate your blood pressure any more than you already have.”

“Will the fall of the Malfoy name, never be complete? How am I ever to show my face in the Ministry again knowing that that  _brat_ fathered my grandson?”

The week dragged on, unbearably slowly for Scorpius. He was eager to know why his father was meant to be there in the first place, and what the heck was going on!

On Friday after dinner, a note appeared on the table beside Scorpius.  _Your father will be in my office after dinner. Please join us. - HP._ Scorpius read over the letter, looking up at the staff table where Professor Potter was currently deep in a conversation with Professor McGonagall. Scorpius wondered how much the witch knew, neither of them were looking at him and yet, Scorpius got the funny feeling they were talking about him all the same. Shaking his head, he finished off his meal and got up, leaving the Great Hall as quickly as he could to make his way towards Professor Potter’s office, that was just off his classroom on the third floor. Scorpius didn’t really know what to expect, or even what he wanted from the interaction, he still wasn’t sure if he fully believed the idea that Harry Potter was his other father, and yet, the mounting evidence made it hard to believe otherwise, which begged the question, why had his father lied about it? Had Professor Potter known and not wanted him? Scorpius suddenly felt anxious, and his anxiety only heightened when Professor Potter rounded the corner and the two were face to face once more.

“Thank you for coming,” Professor Potter said with a soft sort of fatherly smile. Scorpius nodded, and waited for the Professor to let him into his chambers, his father was already waiting on the other side. Draco’s eyes widened as he took in his son.

“Scorpius? What are you doing here?” he asked, barely concealing the high blush on his cheeks. Scorpius looked between him and Professor Potter then back again.

“He knows Draco,” Professor Potter said.

His father frowned, “How…”

“You’d better tell him,” Professor Potter said.

“So it’s true then,” Scorpius said, finding his voice at last. “Harry Potter is my father?”

His father looked so defeated as he hung his head, “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he demanded, then rounding on Harry said, “Did you know? Why did you leave? Did you not want me and father?”

“Slow down,” Draco said. “Look, I promise I’ll answer all of your questions. But Harry had no idea.”

“Why did you hide me from my other father?” Scorpius demanded arms folded across his chest.

“For his own protection, and mine.” Scorpius gave his father a look at that, and the elder Malfoy sighed deeply. “Look, you don’t need to know everything, suffice it to say, I would have been in danger if anyone got wind of it. I wasn’t exactly popular after the war.” His father had never  _actually_ denied his involvement in the war, but he had never been  _this_ forthright, Scorpius realized.

“So it’s true, you were the Dark Lord’s, right-hand man?” Scorpius asked.

“Hardly. But thanks to your grandfather, I  _was_ a Death Eater.”

“Grandfather was…” Scorpius’s eyes widened.

“Your grandfather was many things,” Draco said. “He tried to kill Harry on more than one occasion actually.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Indeed. So you see, I  _couldn’t_ just tell Harry about you. We weren’t together, we weren’t even  _friends._ It just sort of happened.”

“What about mum?” Scorpius asked.

“Your mother and I were great friends. She helped me conceal my pregnancy and provided the other parent that I  _hoped_ would give you a better life than I had,” his father snorted. “At any rate, I did love your mother…”

“And Prof… Harry?” he asked. His father turned to Professor Potter, a soft smile on his lips.

“I’m afraid I’ve been in love with him far longer than I care to think about,” he admitted.

Scorpius nodded. “So are you dating now?” he asked.

Draco blushed at that, “It’s still new,” Professor Potter answered for his father. “We obviously wouldn’t want to do anything your uncomfortable with, so if you don’t want us to, we’ll understand.”

Scorpius gave Professor Potter a look then, “He confessed his love for you. Do you love him back?”

Professor Potter swallowed looking between Scorpius and Draco then, “Yes.”

Scorpius smiled. “That settles it for me then,” he said. “But if you hurt him,” his eyes lowered. “I’ll set my aunt Pansy on you.”

Professor Potter laughed, but at the serious expression Scorpius gave him, the laugh died in his throat.

“I would never dream of hurting him,” Professor Potter promised.

Scorpius nodded and smiled. “Welcome to the family dad,” he said.

Professor Potter laughed and his father spluttered. “Oh my gods, please invite me for Christmas at the Manor, I can’t wait to see what your father says when he finds out,” Professor Potter teased.

His father blushed crimson. “How about I take us all to Paris instead hm?” Professor Potter and Scorpius shook their heads. Draco sighed, he was clearly outnumbered. It was going to be a very awkward Christmas, he was certain.


	46. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless smut. Plot what plot.   
> Draco's broken after the war, Harry is more than willing to take care of him. He always did, in the end.

_Coming back to Hogwarts was a mistake_ , Draco thought as he reached the Great Hall, his heart stammering in his chest. All eyes were on him, glaring at him, and it was all Draco could do to will himself to move towards the 8th year table. He could see  _him_  from across the room, green eyes smiling widely at Draco, urging him over. He could almost hear his voice whispering in Draco’s ear, urging him on. “Come on baby, you can do it.” Draco held his head high, and put one foot in front of the other, making his way towards those green eyes. He only had eyes for him. Draco sucked in a deep breath, he was so close, so… Draco tumbled to the ground as someone had put their leg out, and smacked his nose hard on the limestone floor of the Great Hall. His head throbbed and Draco could hear laughter echoing throughout the Great Hall. Tears burned at the corner of his eyes and it was all Draco could do not to curl up into a ball and stay there. Distantly Draco heard a growl from across the Great Hall, and feet stomping toward him. Draco flinched, on instinct, curling himself into a ball in an effort to protect himself from the inevitable blows, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Draco peaked his head up to find emerald green eyes staring back at him. Draco couldn’t help but smile as Harry helped him to his feet, and the two made their way across the Great Hall to the eighth year table.

“Silence!” Professor McGonagall growled, as Harry pulled Draco into his lap, and used his napkin to dry the blood from Draco’s face before he cast a quick wandless episky at the blond. Harry had become rather proficient at wandless magic as of late, especially given Draco’s propensity to scream and sob whenever a wand was pointed near his direction. Draco could feel Harry sigh behind him and a small part of him couldn’t help but feel guilty for making Harry have to take care of him. “...will not be tolerated from anyone!” Professor McGonagall continued.

“Sorry,” Draco whispered.

“You did nothing wrong,” Harry whispered into his ear, wrapping an arm around Draco’s waist and helped him eat. Draco sighed.

“I’m sorry you had to rescue me again,” Draco said.

“Just eat for now baby,” Harry told him, cutting up some of his chicken to feed it to Draco, pressing a soft kiss to the back of the blond’s neck. So much for not drawing attention in their eighth year, Draco thought. He could already feel eyes glaring in the back of his head. He was sure he could hear the whispers too.  _How does_ he  _get Harry Potter? He must have him Imperiused. Death Eater scum doesn’t deserve a man as good as Harry Potter._

Draco wondered how many of these cruel words were apart of his imagination? After all, hadn’t he thought such horrible things about himself, despite Harry’s insistence for him not to? If he were honest with himself, Draco didn’t know how Harry had fallen in love with him either, only that Harry said he was, and he showed it too. Often and in different ways. Like when he pulled Draco into his lap to feed him or curled up behind him in bed to help him sleep. Or pet his hair after he’d woken up from a nightmare. Draco never wanted to tell Harry his nightmares were almost exclusively about Harry dying; the few that weren’t included Harry being disgusted by Draco, and pushing him away. Harry always left him one way or another, despite his many promises that he never would.

Draco didn’t hear McGonagall’s speech, how could he, when Harry was whispering such sweet things into his ear all the time, “You’re so beautiful, love. Can’t wait till we can get to our dorm so I can have you all to myself.” Draco shivered at Harry’s words. There was something in the way he made love to Draco, his body draped over his back, their fingers entwined as Draco gripped the sheets, moaning like a slag for Harry to go harder, faster, deeper. It was in these moments that Draco felt the closest he could to normalcy. Having Harry inside him, slamming into his prostate as he whispered sweetly into his ear how much he loved him, how beautiful and perfect he was for him, how Draco was  _his._  How no one else could touch his perfect, beautiful angel, never failed to make Draco whimper and moan, writhing beneath the other man.

Harry rubbed small circles into his back, feeding him dessert, “Aren’t you going to eat?” Draco asked.

“Don’t worry about me love,” Harry whispered in his ear, nipping at the lobe. “I’ll eat later.”

Draco whimpered at Harry’s words.

“P-please, can we go now?” Draco asked.

“We’ll miss the sorting,” Harry replied. “But, you have been good, so perhaps we could sneak away.” Draco nodded. Harry cast a notice-me-not charm over the two of them, and got Draco to his feet, the two of them sneaking out of the Great Hall towards their shared dorm room in the Astronomy Tower. Harry had gone to great lengths to convince Professor McGonagall to allow him and Draco their own private dorm. He had assured the witch it was because Draco needed his own space that was just theirs after the ordeal he had gone through at the Manor. 

Harry all but carried Draco up to their dorm, excitement thrumming through him. It had only been a few hours since last they shagged, Draco had sunk to his knees on the train and sucked Harry’s cock and really how could Harry  _not_ fuck him after that? Then there had been their lovemaking earlier that morning before they’d left for the train. Harry was certain however that as long as he lived he would never grow tired of devouring the blond in any way he could. The moment Harry reached their dorm, he dropped onto the bed, pulling Draco on top of him, with a wide grin. “I want you to ride my cock baby,” Harry whispered in his ear, sliding his hand down into his trousers to tease Draco’s hole. Draco whimpered.

“H-Harry.”

“Please, will you do that for me beautiful? I  _really_ want to see you writhing on my cock, as you fuck yourself.” Draco groaned, burying his face in Harry’s chest, and nodded. Harry grinned. “So perfect for me angel. Gods, you're so tight baby,” Harry pulled Draco into a kiss, running his tongue along Draco’s bottom lip as his slicked fingers slowly slipped deeper inside the blond. Draco gasped, allowing Harry’s tongue entry into his mouth as Harry fingered him open, slowly.

“Mmm, H-Harry. P-please, take me now,” Draco whimpered. Harry grinned, vanishing their clothes, never letting their lips part. Draco gasped at the chill that licked his skin as he sat naked on Harry’s lap on the bed.

“Gods, you’re so perfect,” Harry said, lining up his cock to Draco’s hole. “Ready baby?” Draco nodded, sitting up on his knees before he slid down onto Harry’s cock with a soft moan. Harry groaned low in his throat, gripping Draco’s thighs, as the blond sank fully onto his cock. “Fuck,” he growled. Draco whimpered, slowly sliding his arse back up. Harry’s cock spread him wide, and Draco moaned, loudly as he sat back down, hitting his prostate with Harry’s cock. Draco rocked himself on Harry’s cock, moving faster and harder, gods he’d been needing this. A rough, hard, fuck. Feeling Harry’s cock brutally claim his hole as the other man growled filth into his ear. It was rare they simply fucked, Harry preferred to take his sweet time with Draco, slipping slowly into him, kissing him all over.

Draco whined, “Harder, please,” he begged. Harry growled again, meeting him thrust for thrust, Draco screamed. Harry’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of his thighs.

“So fucking perfect,” Harry growled, slamming as hard as he could into the blond.

“Haaaarrry,” Draco whined. “So c-close.”

Harry pulled him down for a searing kiss, “Yes. Come for me baby,” he growled into his ear, thrusting up into the blond in a punishing pace. Draco screamed again and came across Harry’s chest. Harry grunted, sucking on Draco’s throat, fucking him through his orgasm. “Gonna come so hard inside you baby,” Harry promised, fucking him harder. “Mmm, gods your so tight, so warm and perfect, I just wanna live with my cock inside you.”

“Harry,” Draco whimpered.

Harry chuckled, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can see your prick getting hard again at the thought. Do you think I can make you come twice baby?” he whispered. “Mmm, I’d so love to try. Maybe I should eat out that pretty little arse while you suck my cock again.” Draco whined. Harry grinned rubbing Draco’s arse with his big, strong hands that never failed to make Draco keen. “Or I could come in your hole and then eat your arse. Like a little creme filled doughnut,” Draco hissed. “Mmm, mine,” Harry growled, nipping at his shoulder.

“Yes. Oh, gods yes Harry yours. Only yours,” Harry held him tight, as he came hard inside the blond. Draco whined, writhing on Harry’s cock as he filled him up. It was filthy, and hot, and oh so perfect. Harry pulled out of him, and before Draco could complain, Harry had pulled his arse up to his face and buried his tongue in his hole, lapping up his own come, drawing a scream from the blond. Harry hummed against his hole, curling his fingers into Draco’s hair, positioning his face over Harry’s still impossibly hard cock. Draco whimpered, as Harry shoved his face into his cock, fucking his mouth. Draco moaned around the thick cock in his mouth as Harry ate out his arse with ferocious vigor. It was everything Draco needed now, and Draco was certain he was in heaven.


	47. A Very Smutty Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin. Smut for Christmas. Need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic Drarry with a touch of delicious smut.

It was nearing midnight by the time Harry and Draco had finally gotten the kids into bed, and they were both exhausted. It had been a long day, full of opening presents at both the Burrow and Malfoy Manor. Culminating in the twins, Scorpius and Albus, receiving their first training brooms from Lucius and the two six-year-olds begging their parents to let them go flying with their older brothers. Draco had glared at his father.

“Thank you very much,” he had said shaking his head.

“You weren’t much older than Lily when you learned to fly,” Lucius had said with a smirk. “And besides, they're half Potters, and he’s notoriously good at it, so one presumes it would pass down.” Draco had opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it so instead, he had said nothing.

Draco yawned, climbing into bed beside Harry.

“I know we said we weren’t going to do gifts this year,  _but_ there is something I’d like from you,” Harry said.

“Oh?” Draco asked through a yawn, eyeing his husband. Harry smirked, trailing a finger down Draco’s pale, naked chest.

“Remember that Slytherin outfit you knicked from Pansy in eighth year?” Harry asked. Draco’s breath hitched as Harry’s fingers ghosted over his skin. Harry leaned over and whispered low in his ear. “I wanna see you in that and…” Harry leaned over their bed pulling out a box from under their bed, neatly wrapped in holly wrapping paper. “These,” Harry handed him the box. Draco eyed his husband before he unwrapped the box to find emerald green knickers and black knee-high tights with garters.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises?” Draco asked. Harry winked. “Alright then, stay right there,” Draco pulled himself out of bed and snuck into their closet with his new lingerie, in search of Pansy’s old uniform.

Harry yawned, still in their bed, and cast a quick silencing spell around their room, he was so hard just from the thought of Draco in that outfit again. It felt like it had been an eternity since they’d been intimate, though Harry knew it had only been a few days. They had managed to convince Lucius and Narcissa to take their five grandchildren for the day, and the two had gone three rounds in a few hours. Harry’s cock twitched at the memory. Draco writhing on his lap in the library, pounding into him in the shower, teasing his hole in the tub, it was enough to make Harry want to do it all over again. Harry sighed, slipping his hand beneath their blankets, stroking his cock slowly, as he waited.

“Starting without me?” Draco asked with a pout, leaning against the doorjamb of their closet. Harry’s hand froze midway as he stared at his husband, if he hadn’t been hard before, the sight of the blond as he was now, wearing that skirt, his long blond hair in a high ponytail on top of his head, the crisp white button down shirt with the top three buttons undone, and those tights, he knew he would have been. Harry’s mouth watered.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tearing off the blankets, he nearly leaped out of bed, running over to his husband, and lifted him up into the air, easily, shoving him against the wall. Draco gasped, Harry, pressed his lips to Draco’s pale exposed throat. Draco whined, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist. “So fucking beautiful,” Harry growled against his skin. “So fucking perfect, so mine.”

Draco whined, arching off the wall into Harry. Harry growled, carrying the blond back to their bed and threw him onto it. Draco laughed, bouncing a little. Harry climbed on top of him, more aroused than he ever remembered being. “How are you still so perfect after all these years?” Harry asked, kissing down Draco’s throat, his collarbones, towards the little, peek of his chest that could be seen despite the buttons. Draco groaned, running his fingers through Harry’s hair. His body alight with pleasure, every nerve ending felt as though it were being teased with Harry’s tongue. Harry unbuttoned the rest of his top, swirling his tongue across an exposed nipple, causing Draco to keen.

Seven years of hatred had given way to six years of passionate, rough, fucking, no feeling behind it, or so both Harry and Draco had insisted. Pure sex, which had given way to the last decade of pure love. Their sex was as passionate as ever, though it was occasionally interspersed with moments like these. Less fucking, and more lovemaking. A quiet, slow, measured exploration of one another’s bodies. Harry was an expert in his husband by now. He knew every tell, every tick, every gentle touch, and barely audible whisper from the blond. Every spot that would elicit the greatest response and just the right words to make Draco writhe beneath him. Harry  _loved_ the sounds Draco made, from his soft whimpers to his screaming moans, to the wordless sobs as he reached the point of no return.

Harry grinned, dragging his tongue down Draco’s nipple, past his ribs, and stomach, toward the prize that was the emerald green skirt he was wearing. Impossibly short, the skirt barely skimmed the top of Draco’s creamy white thighs. Harry growled, running his hand up the blond’s thigh, they were so smooth, Harry couldn’t help but let out a small moan. Draco had shaved for him, the very thought made his cock throb again, leaking out a small drop of precome at the promise of what lie beneath the skirt. The most magnificent, supple arse Harry had ever had the pleasure to bury his cock in. It was heaven, and from the first time he’d been in the blond he  _knew_ he could never be satisifed anywhere else. 

“Turn over,” Harry growled, his voice deep and gravely, Draco whimpered, turning over as fast as he could, he never could resist Harry’s  _Auror_ voice, as he liked to call it. Harry sat up on his knees, gliding both hands, up Draco’s thighs, towards the perfectly round arse, barely concealed by the knickers Harry had bought. Draco whined. Harry massaged the globes beneath his fingers, letting himself bask in the feel of them in his hand. The silk gliding across his skin.

“Harry,” Draco whined. Harry smirked, trailing his fingers down the cleft of his husband’s arse, still surrounded in the silk. It was more fun this way, teasing the blond through his knickers. Hoping to make him soak them with precome before Harry finally took pity on him and devoured him whole.

“P-please, Harry,” Draco whined.

Harry purred, slowly slipping his fingers past the lace band, dragging his gruff fingers against Draco’s already sensitive hole. He bucked, trying to fuck himself on Harry’s fingers. It had been too long, for Draco’s liking, and he wanted them inside him  _so_ bad. It was all Draco could think about. Gripping the sheets, he buried his face in his pillow, wiggling his arse in his husband’s face,  _desperate_ to be filled.

“So eager for it aren’t you kitten?” Harry growled.

Draco whined, “Yesss.”

Harry smirked, dragging the knickers down just enough that he could slide one finger into the blond. Draco groaned, riding Harry’s finger, desperate for friction, desperate for  _anything_ Harry could give him. “Please Harry, don’t tease me,” he begged. Harry merely grinned.

“I’ll take care of you baby,” he promised, pressing a kiss to Draco’s lower back. “Don’t you worry.”

Draco groaned, letting Harry take his time. Draco delighted in times like these, where the anticipation was so thick in the air he could almost taste it.

“Please Harry, more,” Draco begged.

Harry couldn’t help but oblige his husband then, slipping a second finger into the blond. Draco hissed, it was glorious. Harry’s thick, calloused fingers scissoring into him, twisting as they pulled out and slamming into his prostate on their way in. Draco writhed on the bed and rode Harry’s fingers. “Yes! Oh gods, Harry Yes! Fuck. Please… I need your cock in me so bad,” he whined.

Harry chuckled, sliding his fingers out of Draco then. The blond whimpered at the loss. Harry smirked, pulling down his knickers, desperate to taste Draco’s sweet hole again. Draco hissed, writhing on the bed, leaking precome. Spreading his cheeks wide, Harry buried his face in between them teasing Draco’s hole open with his tongue. Draco screamed, arching off the bed. He  _loved_ when Harry rimmed him. Harry ate arse like he did most things in his life, very well and with such passion it made Draco’s head spin and his legs quiver. Only once had Harry rimmed his husband while Draco was standing, and the results had been painful, to say the least. Just before he’d come Draco’s legs had given out, dropping him to the floor where Harry had attempted to catch him, but not in time to fix the damage that had been done as Draco’s knee’s colluded with the cold hard tile.

Harry lapped at his hole, swirling his tongue, adding occasional sucks and flicks to tease him closer and closer to the edge. Draco screamed riding Harry’s tongue madly.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” he moaned. “Gods, I wanna come so bad,” he whined.

Harry grinned, “Come for me, kitten. I wanna see you come just from my tongue in your hole,” he growled shoving his face and tongue as deep into Draco’s hole as he could manage. Draco screamed, arching back towards him and came hard across their sheets. Draco’s legs trembled beneath him, his whole body spent from his intense orgasm. Harry smirked, and kissed up his husband’s back until he reached his shoulder. “So beautiful baby. You should rest.”

“But, you didn’t come yet,” Draco said through a yawn. Harry laughed.

“I’ll get you in the morning, don’t you worry. Your parents have agreed to watch the kids again.”

Draco gasped. “Aren’t you a Slytherin in disguise?” Draco said.

Harry smiled. “Yep,” slowly Harry turned Draco onto his back and kissed him slowly, passionately, then pulled him to his chest, snuggling him from behind and the two drifted off to sleep.


	48. Manhandled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry raids the Manor, shoving Draco up against the wall, Draco is more turned on than he should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Keyflight790 who wanted manhandled Draco. And a little daddy kink. Smut ensues.

_How is this my life?_ Draco wondered as he stood, with his back pressed against the wall of the Manor, with Harry bloody Potter standing over him, looking far too fit to be fair. Draco sighed, his arms folded across his chest.

“Six bloody years after the war and you’re still raiding the Manor?” he demanded, trying not to stare too hard into those brilliant emerald eyes. Harry had filled out considerably in the years since the war, he was bulky, with a handsome beard, that had just a touch of grey in it. The fact that the other man had shoved him bodily into the wall, his hand gripped in the fine material of Draco’s suit, his wand held to Draco’s throat, his knee shoved between Draco’s legs, hadn’t helped matters. Loathe though he was to admit it, Draco was terribly aroused at the moment.

“We got a tip that someone in the house might be dealing with dark magic,” Harry replied with a shrug, as though it were perfectly obvious. Draco huffed.

“Of course you did,” he shook his head. Every former Death Eater this side of the Thames had it out for the Malfoy’s, and with Lucius dead and Narcissa in France, Draco was the primary target of their ire. 

“It’s standard procedure,” Harry promised. Draco rolled his eyes but otherwise said nothing, for what could he hope to do but sit there and let the DMLE rifle through his life.

“All clear sir,” one of the Auror’s said a moment later. Harry nodded, waving them off, letting Draco’s blazer go. Draco glared, adjusting it in an effort to keep his hands busy, lest he grab Harry and drag him in for a kiss, or something equally embarrassing. The Auror’s cleared Malfoy Manor in a matter of seconds leaving only Harry– to collect information from Mr. Malfoy. Draco snorted.

“What could you possibly want to—” but Draco’s words were cut off as Harry shoved him back into the wall more firmly this time, pressing their lips together. Draco whimpered.

“We were centimeters apart, you think I didn’t feel your hard-on through your trousers?” Harry growled in his ear. Draco’s breath hitched.

“You shoved your thigh between my legs,” Draco said breathlessly.

“You get off on being manhandled don’t you, Malfoy?” Harry asked, with a chuckle. Draco glared.

“Fuck off Potter,” he spat.

Harry’s eyes lowered, “Now that’s no way to talk to the Head Auror.”

Draco snorted, “How do you manage to be flexible enough to suck your own dick  _and_ kiss your own arse.” Harry laughed at that grabbing Draco’s blazer and flipped him around, shoving his face into the wall. Draco gasped, Harry’s hands roamed over his back, tearing off the blazer and tossing it behind him.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Harry growled into his ear. “Tell me you don’t want this,” Draco whined, bucking his arse back toward’s Harry’s crotch. “That’s what I thought.” Draco wanted to glare, wanted to argue with the other man that he didn’t want this, but he could feel Harry’s hard, thick, cock through his trousers and he  _knew_ there was no use in pretending. He’d wanted this forever. Leaning in, Harry sucked hard on Draco’s throat, his hands wandering over Draco’s arse. Draco whimpered. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for a week,” Harry growled. Draco whined.

“Yes,” he hissed. Harry pulled down his trousers, dropping to his knees, licking a long stripe from Draco’s lower back toward’s the cleft of his arse. Draco moaned, letting his head hit the wall.

“Such beautiful sounds you make kitten,” Harry purred.

“Mmm, daddy,” Draco whined.

Harry growled, standing up straight then, “What was that?” he growled into Draco’s ear. Draco shivered, not sure he should repeat it. “Say it again,” Harry commanded, Draco whimpered, his cock impossibly hard. There was something about that commanding tone that made him wand to drop to his knees and do whatever Harry said.

“P-please daddy,” Draco whined.

Harry grinned, “Who knew you, the repressed, uptight, pureblood Prince of Slytherin had a kinky side,” Harry growled against his throat, dropping to his knees once more, burying his face in Draco’s arse.

Draco moaned, arching into the wall. “Yes, oh gods, yes daddy please,” Draco moaned.

Harry growled, devouring his arse with vigor, determined to make him writhe and squirm against the wall. Harry had to admit, when he’d left the DMLE that afternoon for the raid on Malfoy Manor he hadn’t quite expected to be on his knees eating Draco Malfoy’s arse as he whined above him, and yet the moment he’d seen the blond, his hair so much longer, his face so soft and pretty, well… Harry hadn’t been able to resist the living fantasy that stood before him. He wondered if those lips would be as delicious wrapped around his cock as they were moaning obscenely above him. Harry slipped two fingers in beside his tongue, twisting them in search of that sweet spot inside the blond. Draco screamed above him and Harry grinned, curling his fingers again to ensure he hit the same spot over and over again.

“Such a pretty kitten,” Harry purred watching his fingers disappear into Draco’s hole over and over again. Draco moaned, trying to ride Harry’s fingers as they fucked into him, harder and harder.

“S-so close, p-please daddy let me come,” Draco whined.

Harry slid a third finger into him, twisting the three fingers, slamming them into his prostate unrelentingly.

“Come for daddy kitten,” Harry growled. Draco screamed, coming hard against the wall, Harry fingered him through his orgasm, pressing small kisses to the base of Draco’s spine, before he got to his feet once more and smirked at the blond. Draco’s legs shivered, and he whined at the loss as Harry’s fingers slipped from his quivering hole. Harry grinned, bodily flipping Draco back around, boxing him in with his arms, pressing a kiss to Draco’s soft pink lips. “I have to get back to work but I’ll be back to finish the job tonight,” Harry promised, running his thumb across Draco’s lower lip. Draco sucked his thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, his cheeks hollow as he sucked the digit between his lips. Harry groaned.

“Oh kitten, what I wouldn’t give to sneak you into my office and just have you under my desk, sucking my cock whenever I wanted it,” Draco shuddered and Harry smirked, sucking another love bite onto his neck before he pulled away. “Have a good afternoon,” Harry said, his voice an octave lower than normal, his eyes were dark and lust blown and Draco wanted  _desperately_ to suck his cock, and be fucked hard by Harry Potter. Draco watched helplessly, as Harry stepped into the floo and vanished in a swirl of green flames. Draco stared breathlessly at the floo, half wondering if that hadn’t all been some fever dream. Draco trailed his fingers over his throat, it was still sensitive from where Harry had sucked on his throat, and the mirror in the entrance hall told the whole story. His neck was black and blue, he looked as though he’d been mauled by a vampire. A sexy vampire, named Harry Potter, who had manhandled him in his own home, and eaten his arse like a man in the desert who’d just been offered water. Draco shuddered at the memory.

 


	49. Sassy Drarry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry are just very sassy to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been making the rounds on my Tumblr again and I realized I don't think I have this on this drabble series yet. So here we are.

The argument had started, as it often did, because Harry sodding Potter, just  _had_ to run in like the hero of the Wizarding World he was. Much to his own detriment.

Harry had only  _just_ woken up in the DMLE’s hospital ward when Draco started in on him. “You colossal fucking prat!” Draco said, his arms folded across his chest as he glared down at the half-asleep Auror.

“Good morning to you too,” Harry replied.

“Do you  _like_ giving me grey hair?” Draco demanded. “Truly? Do you  _like_ causing me all this grievance? Because I’ll tell you something Harry James Potter, I’m beginning to think you  _like_ causing me all this stress!”

“I’m sorry?” Harry tried. Draco snorted, throwing his hands up into the air, as the midi-wizard came in and shortly thereafter Harry was discharged, it was for Harry, one of his shorter stints in the hospital. 

“Sorry, he’s bloody sorry. Did you hear that world? Harry James Potter is sorry for making his boyfriend worry because he can’t help but barge in like a bull in a bloody fucking China shop!” Draco bellowed at no one in particular.

“Alright, easy there, dragon,” Harry said as he stood and made his way out of his hospital room, down to the break room for some tea. His head still hurt from whatever curse had knocked him on his arse. 

Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, following him, “As per usual Potter your timing on that case was impeccable. What  _would_ we do without the boy-who-lived to muck things up?” Draco said with a sneer.

Harry merely snorted as he pulled down two teacups. “Well maybe if  _some_ people would hurry the fuck up,” he said.

“Curse breaking takes  _time,_ Potter. But I wouldn’t expect you of all people to understand that. You impatient git!” Draco ground out. It was not the first time they’d had this conversation. In fact, ever since the Ministry had absorbed the Curse Breakers from Gringott’s several years earlier, the Ministry had been turned completely upside down, and the DMLE had found itself in the crossfire of Harry and Draco’s rather famous arguing. Much to their co-worker’s  _endless_ annoyance. The fact the two were now dating, impossible though that scenario had seemed to most in the office, had made little difference in the nature of their banter. Even when they  _weren’t_ arguing, they still had a sarcastic sort of banter.

“Time we never have,” Harry replied, nearly sing-song as the kettle screamed and he poured the hot water over the tea bags he had placed in the cups for himself and Draco.

“Have I mentioned today how much I loathe you, Potter?” Draco asked with a huff as Harry handed him the teacup with his favorite, Darjeeling, much too much sugar, and a bit of milk.

“Love you too, git,” Harry replied as he took his own cup and the two made their way over to one of the uncomfortable tables and chairs the Ministry had and sat down. Draco merely rolled his eyes.

“I’m certain  _that,_ isn’t what I said,” he said.

“True, but the implication was there, darling.”

“Don’t you darling me, I’m mad at you, you prat!” Draco argued.

“Oi! Are you two fighting again? Merlin’s arse let it go!” Ron complained as he walked into the break room. Draco raised an eyebrow as he stared at the redhead.

“What are you on about now Weasley?” Draco asked as if he and Harry  _hadn’t_ just been arguing moments earlier, even if it did lack their usual venom.

“Don’t mind  _Potter,_ he’s in a snit because I rushed him on his curse breaking and suffered a little injury,” Harry said.

“Malfoy-Potter!” Draco said, then paused. “Wait, we’re not even married! Why am I arguing this with you? And it wasn’t a  _little_ injury. You were unconscious, which admittedly at this point isn’t an uncommon state for you.”

Harry merely laughed in spite of himself. “You’re arguing because you love me, and you hate that you have human feelings like the rest of us.”

“You shut your lying mouth  _Potter!_ ” Draco growled. Harry merely grinned at his boyfriend.

“It’s okay love,” he said patting his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You’ll get used to being human soon enough.”

“Piss off,” Draco replied, though he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Harry anyway. Ron merely stared, flabbergasted at the two of them. “I’m sorry that I am concerned at the state of your wellbeing since certainly  _you_ can’t be arsed to.”

“Fortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere. If Voldemort couldn’t take me down, no little curse could,” he said, flexing his arms as if to show just how strong he was. Draco snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Why do I love you again?” Draco asked.

“Because I’m amazing,” Harry replied.

Draco rolled his eyes, “Yes that  _must_ be it.” Ron opened his mouth to argue,  _what was even happening right now? How could these two so aggressively like each other like that?_ “The problem Potter, is that if you don’t use that snitch sized brain of yours, you’re going to get yourself bloody killed and then where will that leave me? Not  _quite_ a widow.”

“So then we’ll get married,” Harry said with a shrug.

“I don’t bloody want to marry you, you prat!” Harry raised an eyebrow in a way that was  _uncomfortably_ Malfoy-esque for Ron’s liking.

“Everybody wants to marry me,” Harry replied simply.

“Your ego is running away unchecked Potter,” Draco said. “You’ll  _need_ someone to keep you grounded before your big head floats away. I suppose that duty naturally falls to me.” At this Harry laughed.

“What the bloody hell is even happening right now?” Ron asked, feeling his eye twitching as Hermione entered the room, and laid her head on his shoulder.

“We’re having a discussion,” Harry said.

“Honestly Weasley, do keep up, or butt out,” Draco added, then turned to Harry. “You’d really marry me?”

Harry grinned. “In a heartbeat.”

“Potter I’m seriously worried about your standards. They’ve finally raised,” Draco said with a grin.

“They were bound to, I’ve been dating a diva for months!” Harry replied.

Draco snorted, “I am  _not_ a diva.”

“You are, and you’re  _my_ diva,” Harry said kissing Draco’s lips softly.

Hermione chuckled, “You should be used to it by now,” she whispered in Ron’s ear as he merely stared at his best mate and Draco Malfoy, and their odd mating ritual. He was certain, as long as he lived he would  _never_ get used to this. Not so much them, but the  _way,_ in which they interacted.

  * * *

The wedding happened six months later, Ron had been somehow unsurprised to learn that somewhere in their back and forth teasing about marriage, had been an acceptable proposal.

“I’m still not taking your bloody last name Potter,” Draco had said during his vows, much to his husband’s amusement. Harry merely smiled.

“We’ll see, Potter,” he replied.

“Alright you two, save it for the bedroom,” Ron said, not wanting to witness any more of their odd romance. Harry merely smiled, kissing Draco passionately as the wedding ended. Despite himself, Ron couldn’t help but feel happy for his friend, even if he was marrying the Slytherin prat. 


	50. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco regrets ever convincing Lucius Malfoy to get a cellphone, because he has terrible timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's smutty but also ridiculous so there's that. Kind of an older story that was reinvigorated by a Tumblr concept. So... yeah.

Draco regretted ever suggesting Lucius Malfoy learn to use a cell phone.

It wasn’t just because Lucius had complained, on a near constant basis, in the beginning, that he could never understand these blasted muggle contraptions, or that he had been forced to teach his father about his phone for at least six months afterward.

No.

He regrets it, because now that Lucius has gotten the hang of it, he calls his son, constantly. For everything, and nothing, at all hours day and night, and almost always, at the most inopportune times.

So when, at 10 PM, as Draco and Harry lay in bed, or rather, Harry lays in the bed and Draco sits on his chest, fucking his mouth, it figures that his bloody phone would ring. Draco groaned as Harry pulled off of him with a loud pop. Growling, Draco grabbed the offending phone off the nightstand to see his father’s smirking face looking back at him from the screen. Draco snorted. Nope.

“Answer it,” Harry growled. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Are you bloody mad? He’ll hear us!” Draco gasped. The phone rang again and Draco wanted to throw it against the wall.

“He’ll keep calling,” Harry said. Draco pouted. “Next is a Howler I’m sure.”

“Oh, bloody hell!” he growled and picked up the phone as he sat back on Harry’s lap. “Don’t come without me,” he said. Harry smirked up at him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said as Draco slid his finger across the screen to answer it.

“Hello Father,” he said, trying not to groan as he felt Harry’s hard cock teasing the crease of his ass.

“Your mother is driving me bloody mad with this wedding,” Lucius said sounding disgruntled.

“I can’t really talk now,” Draco tried. If Lucius heard him however he made no note of acknowledging his son’s words.

“She can’t seem to understand why you won’t have it at the manor,” Lucius said. Draco sighed as he felt Harry flick his wrist to lube Draco up with a spell. He gasped and shot his boyfriend a dark look. Before he could say a word, Harry lined himself up and Draco was forced to cover his mouth as Harry grabbed his hips and pulled him down to the hilt. It was all Draco could do not to moan. He was not particularly good at keeping quiet, and with Harry’s cock buried inside him, he knew he would have to ride it. Harry thrust up hitting Draco’s prostate and caused the blond to bite his hand. He was certain his father had asked him something, but Harry was hitting his prostate so insistently he couldn’t remember what the fuck it was.

Draco did his best to concentrate, “Father we’ve…” he paused, swallowing down a scream. “Talked about this.” he knew he sounded like he was out of breath. Damn his insatiable boyfriend. They’d already fucked 3 times that day.

“Yes yes, bad memories, but it would be so much simpler.”

“Hmmm,” Draco purred. “Tell…” Harry slammed into his prostate. “Oh Salazar…” he growled. Lucius was ranting. Harry thrust up again, “FUCK!” Draco growled and Harry chuckled.

“I wish you wouldn’t swear, I know you’re upset too but it’s unbecoming a Mal–”

“I need to go,” Draco said cutting off his father’s words. Harry shook his head, and mouthed,  _don’t be rude._

“But we haven’t discussed…”

Draco groaned, “Father, there’s nothing to d-discuss,” he said biting back a whine. Harry smirked. He  _loved_ to see his fiancé like this. “We won’t have it at the manor. You and Mother can find something else.” Lucius sighed on the other end of the line, and Draco hissed as Harry hit his prostate. “Why not Grim—Grimmauld?” Harry smirked, fucking up into him more. Draco whimpered, letting his head fall into Harry’s shoulder.

“Are you quite well? You sound like you’re catching a cold.” 

Draco nearly laughed. “I’m perfect. Better than in fact but,  _please,_ just call mother.”

“Right,” Lucius said hanging up the phone. Draco hung up tossing the phone over his shoulder as Harry slammed up into him more and more. Draco moaned.

“H-Harry,” he screamed.

“Such a good boy aren’t you.”

Draco whined, “Need you so bad.”

Harry grinned, flipping them over and lifted Draco’s legs to his shoulders pounding into him harder. Draco moaned and whimpered, taking it. He loved when Harry took control like this.  

 

 


	51. Strip Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is the most popular dancer at Blaise's club, he only works one day a week, but when a wealthy mysterious man offers to pay an exorbitant amount of money for Draco to work on Friday, Draco begrudgingly agrees. The man he meets, well, he's not too mad about his change of schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on an ask on Tumblr... Light smut? This was REALLY fun. Daddy kink as requested.

“Dray, you’re on for Friday night,” Blaise said, over the phone.

“What?” Draco snorted, it was already Wednesday and he  _never_ did a gig on Friday’s. Friday’s were for regular strippers. Draco wasn’t a stripper. He was an experience. An experience that  _very_ few got to have and only on Saturday nights.

“Did you tell them I  _only_ do Saturday’s?” he demanded.

“The man is apparently very influential and he has to fly out on Saturday.”

“And that’s my problem  _how_?” Draco asked with a huff, holding his phone a vintage rotary princess phone in emerald green, decorated with Swarovski crystals delicately in his hand, despite his fury. The nerve of this man…

“He’s paid double your fee,” Blaise said. Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Tell them to make it triple or they can fuck off,” Blaise sighed on the other end of the line. Draco  _knew_ he was a diva, but he also knew he could afford to be. Draco alone brought in a quarter of the club’s profits with his VIP shows.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Blaise said and hung up the phone. Draco smirked, depositing the phone back on the receiver. It was nearing nine and Draco still had an hour before he was due for brunch with his mother, and then two more hours before he would meet with his trainer. Draco had always been lean, and feminine looking, a fact which had only helped his shows, but there was a certain amount of flexibility that was required in his job that doing one show per week simply would never cut, so Draco kept a rigid dietary and exercise schedule. Sighing, Draco climbed out of the four poster bed, pulling open his curtains and strode down the stairs of his bed, making his way toward the chaise across the room, opening the morning paper to look into his stocks.

His phone rang again. Draco eyed the phone across the room and considered letting it go to answering machine. He didn’t really want to hear about this godforsaken mystery man wanting a Friday show again, but something in him made him get up and answer the phone anyway.

“What?” he demanded.

“Well they tripled it,” Blaise said, sounding rather shocked. Draco smirked.

“Triple my already exorbitant fee, I must say I’m rather impressed with your negotiation skills Zabini. Thank…”

“Not triple your usual fee. Triple, the already doubled fee.”

“Excuse me?” Draco could hardly believe his ears, trying to do the mental math in his head of his fee times two and then tripled. It was, unreal.

“Apparently he has spoken with one of your regulars and he talked you up rather vociferously.”

“Well, who is this stranger?” Draco asked, curiously, eying his watch.

“They wouldn’t tell me his real name,” Blaise said. “All I could get was that he went by Daddy.”

Draco snorted, “Don’t they all?” he shook his head. He could imagine the type of man that would go by such a name and also be willing to pay six times his normal rate. Some pathetic sad sack who couldn’t get laid and would no doubt think his throwing money around would get him some action. “I hope you told him I’m not touching him just because he paid six times my usual fee.”

“You’ll suck his cock doing a handstand if he bloody wants it!” Blaise growled. “The amount of money we’re discussing here is astronomical for one dancer to make in a single night.” Draco huffed, he didn’t like it but he  _knew_ Blaise was right.

“Very well,” he said

“Good boy,” Blaise smirked. “And I expect you to be on time. And  _nice._ Not like you usually treat your customers like they aren’t worth the dirt on your Prada loafers.”

“They  _like_ that!” Draco said with a pout.

“Not this one,” Blaise said.

Draco huffed. “Yes mother,” he rolled his eyes hanging up the phone before Blaise could call him a little bitch or something equally foul. Draco smirked as he made his way back toward his chaise, suddenly looking forward to Friday.

Friday evening arrived, much faster than Draco had anticipated, Draco had worked out, and taken his usual Saturday long soak to ensure his skin was extra milky and creamy for his performance that night. He made sure to stretch extra and though he was loathed to the idea, he even prepped himself, just in case the man wanted to fuck him. It wasn’t unheard of and Draco supposed for  _that_ amount of money he would no doubt feel entitled to  _something._ He just hoped the man had packed enough Viagra to make it worth it. 

By nine Draco’s car arrived from the club to pick him up, just as Draco was putting the finishing touches on his look. A touch of blush, and lipstick to make sure everything popped sparkles everywhere and he was ready to go. Draco grabbed his lucky feather boa made from real peacock feathers from the Manor, and made his way out of his penthouse down to the awaiting car. Draco touched up his body shimmer in the back of the town car, as it sped off towards the club. He hated to admit he was  _eager_ to meet this wealthy Daddy who seemed eager to shower him with more money than almost any other client Draco had ever had.  _Even that one Prince who’d given him a Rolex._ Draco shuddered at the thought. The car came to a stop just outside the club and seconds later the driver appeared to open the door for him. Draco smirked, stepping out onto the kerb and made his way up into the dark club, toward’s the VIP lounge where he conducted his shows. The room was dark, and the man was already sitting in the chair usually reserved for clientele. He was wearing a dark leather jacket and had the messiest jet black hair Draco had ever seen. Draco rolled his eyes, as he strolled into the room, making his way toward the back, and his would-be stage, and slowly turned around. 

Draco froze as he stared at the gorgeous hunk of a man sitting before him, he was wearing a tight black tee, ripped jeans and some kind of brown construction worker boot that Draco never failed to find just a little sexy. Then there was the rest of the man, all muscle, with a bit of a beard, and light brown skin. He had a scar over his left eye that somehow only made him look more dashing. For a brief moment, Draco was certain he might lose his footing as he took in the man before him. There was no way  _this_  was his client, Draco thought. No way  _this_ man spent  _that_ much money on him. Why would he need to? He was an Adonis. The man’s brilliant emerald eyes inspected him, and Draco suddenly felt weak under his intense gaze. Even wearing his best suit, he felt like the man was dressing him down, or perhaps, undressing him with his eyes.

“You’re even more beautiful than the Minister said,” the man called Daddy said. His voice was low, such a seductive timber that Draco could hardly believe he’d ever argued against this at all. He wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees for this man, and never come up.

“Th-thank you,” Draco stammered. Draco was  _never_ this off his game, he groaned to himself,  _pull yourself together!_

“Prada?” the man asked as he took in Draco’s designer clothing.

“Yes,” he said. He felt like an idiot, but he could hardly  _think_ in this man’s presence, let alone do anything more than stare. Swallowing, Draco heard the music come on through the speakers and he was suddenly in his element again. Draco grinned at the man, turning around, and began to slowly peel off his coat.  _This_ was more like it, Draco thought. The sexy jazz number, echoing behind him as he began to strip off the expensive suit, piece by piece, he could feel the older man’s eyes burning into his skin even through the clothes. He reveled in it. Stripping off the coat, Draco let it fall to the floor, and turned around, slowly unbuttoning his vest, then his shirt. He could see the man’s breath hitch at every bit of exposed skin, and Draco couldn’t  _help_ but thrill at the realization that he was having an effect on the man. Draco made his way over to the man, leaving the shirt hanging low off his shoulders, as he toyed with the button on his trousers, teasing it. Ever so slowly. The man licked his lips, his eyes staring intently at Draco’s trousers. Draco unbuttoned them, slowly sliding down the zipper and letting them puddle at his feet. He kicked them behind him until he was standing only in tight, silk boxer briefs, his socks and shoes, and the shirt. He winked at the man and climbed into his lap.

“So daddy, enjoying yourself?” Draco asked.

The man growled, leaning into his ear, “You have no idea how much, I want you,” he said. “Name your price.”

Draco laughed. The man gave him a hard look, grabbing his hips, and it was all Draco could do not to moan, he could feel how hard the other man was through his jeans, how  _much_ he clearly wanted Draco, without thinking, Draco leaned in and pressed his lips to the other man’s. The man growled against his lips, deepening it, and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Draco gasped as the man kissed down his jaw towards his throat, sucking bruises there.

“Want you so bad baby,” the man growled. Draco whimpered.

“Yes.”

“Mmm, want you all for me, only for me baby,” he said.

Draco nodded, writhing on his lap. “Only for you daddy,” he hissed.

“You have no idea what it does to me to hear you say that,” the man said, sucking on his collarbone. Draco moaned, writhing in his lap. “So beautiful, god, how are you  _so_ fucking beautiful?”

Draco whimpered as the man continued kissing and sucking down his throat, his collar, his chest, he never wanted it to end. Never wanted the man to stop telling him how perfect he was. How amazing, how  _his_ he was. He could never afford it before now, but Draco  _loved_ the idea of being marked like this. Of having the whole world see who’s he was. For a fleeting moment, Draco allowed himself to forget that it was all meant to be a fantasy. That when the man’s time was up he would move on, no doubt to some other dancer in some other town. Draco frowned a little at the thought. He would have to make it memorable then, he decided, dropping to his knees before the man.

“Whoa, where are you going in such a hurry?” the man asked.

Draco looked up at him from beneath his blond lashes. “I thought I would make this good for you daddy,” Draco said, innocent as he could. The man smiled down at him, picking him up instead and putting him back in his lap.

“Slowly baby. Slowly. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Draco gave him a look then, as the man pressed their lips together once more, “Listen I… know you probably make tons of money here, but I’d love it if you’d come home with me instead, and just be mine.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “I…  _really?_ ” Draco hardly  _needed_ the money. He mostly did the job because it was entertaining and empowering, and it pissed off his father to no end. But  _this_ to be offered a connection like this, to be offered this gorgeous man. “Yes,” Draco said.

The man smiled, pressing their lips together again, and stood. Draco gasped, wrapping his legs around the man’s waist, letting himself be carried out of the club. He felt as though he were dreaming as he was dropped into the back of a black stretch limo, and the man crawled in after him, over him, kissing over his neck and chest, down his stomach, towards his silk boxer briefs. The man grinned up at him. “I’m going to have so much fun wrecking you,” he growled, teasing Draco with feather light touches through his pants. Draco whimpered, arching into the man’s touch. It was glorious torture, and he knew he would love every second of it.

 

 


	52. The Other Mr. Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an ask for domestic Drarry with someone talking about how Draco doesn't deserve Harry... angst and smut ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm realizing now there are a number of stories that I forgot to include in this that I wrote this year so... here we are adding more lmfao.

“ _Mr. Potter_?” the man said incredulously. “You don’t deserve to be the dirt beneath Harry Potter’s shoes let alone be his husband!” the man growled hocking spit in Draco’s face. Draco stared at the man who’d spat on him, wanting desperately to say something,  _do_ something other than just stand there. But he couldn’t. He felt as though he’d been hexed to the floor, willing himself not to cry in front of this arsehole because despite Harry loving him, despite Harry’s constant promises that he  _is_ worthy, Draco couldn’t help but believe it when people told him he wasn’t good enough for Harry. Draco turned on the spot, somehow managing to apparate himself back to their house, before he crumbled to the floor and broke down. Harry wouldn’t be home for a long time yet, Draco sniffed, scourgifying his face before he dragged himself to their couch, and curled up in a ball.  He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he felt the other man’s hand on his shoulder. Instinctively Draco flinched, before he turned around.

“Dray, what’s happened?” Harry demanded. Draco sucked in a deep breath shaking his head as he sat up.

“J-just fell asleep I guess,” he lied. Harry knew better, Draco’s eyes were red-rimmed, and bloodshot and Draco sniffed hard.

“You’re a terrible liar where I’m concerned, love,” Harry said.

“I’m s-sorry,” Draco said, burying his face in Harry’s neck. Harry merely held the smaller man tight as Draco broke down in his arms. Harry sighed, feeling helpless.

“Who did this?” Harry demanded. Draco shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Of  _course_ it matters darling. Anyone who mistreats you mistreats me.”

Draco sighed, “Harry,” he sighed, cupping Harry’s cheek with his hand. “You’re so good to me.  _Too_ good for me. Don’t you think your life would have been simpler if…”  _you’d left me to die in the Room of Requirement,_ hung unspoken in the air between them,  but Harry heard it all the same.

“How could you  _possibly_ think that after everything. Dray… my sweet, beautiful, amazing dragon,” he said holding onto his husband tight. “The day I married you was the single best day of my life, second only to our first date and the realization of how much I truly loved you. “ _Nothing_ else matters to me,” Harry said, pressing him tight to his chest.

Draco sighed. “I just feel like I’m spoiling your life Harry,” Draco said hanging his head. Harry shook his head, lifting Draco’s chin with his hand.

“Never baby. You make my life so much more incredible. Don’t ever think anything else,” he promised, pressing their lips together, hoping to pour into their kiss all the things Harry never felt he could adequately say. His eternal, undying love for the blond, how amazing Draco had made his life and how happy he was to be married to the other man. Draco gasped, and Harry used the opportunity to slip his tongue into Draco’s mouth, pulling their bodies flush against one another, rutting against Draco. “You are  _perfect_ love,” he purred. “Gods, so perfect. So amazing. I’m so lucky you’re mine,” he growled and sucked a bruise onto Draco’s throat. “Because no matter what anyone says baby, you’re mine.” Draco whimpered. “Say it.”

“Yours,” Draco gasped breathlessly. Harry growled biting down on his throat. “Mmm, please Harry, need you inside me.”

Harry grinned, “So beautiful when you beg for me, baby.” Harry pulled Draco into his lap, grinding their hard lengths together. “Fuck, so hard for me aren’t you?” Draco nodded, biting his lower lip. “Beautiful beautiful baby,” he purred into Draco’s ear, licking the shell. Draco shivered. With a wave of his hand, Harry vanished their clothes, lying Draco back on the couch. He sighed, as Harry spread Draco’s legs and began to finger him open.  _This was where he was meant to be_ , Draco told himself, remembering what Harry had told him so many times.  _Where he belonged_ , with Harry inside him, his fingers, his tongue, his cock. Any and all of Harry as deep inside Draco as he could manage. Draco whimpered, riding Harry’s thick fingers as they pumped in and out of him.  _This was home. This was was heaven, this was Harry._ Harry pulled his fingers out and slicked up his cock, slamming into Draco with full force and Draco was certain he saw the gods. There was nowhere else he could ever want to be, then on the couch with Harry, as the other Mr. Potter. And though harsh insults often made him feel insecure, Harry never failed to remind him who he was, and right where he belonged.


	53. Godric and Abraxus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco, Theo, and Blaise, are popular porn actors for SlyStudios about to film a scene with their newest, Harry aka Godric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOoooo  
> one of my favorite Tumblr artists REALLY wanted this idea of them as porn stars so... like  
> I don't even know. I have no excuse other than this is a thing.   
> For clarity Draco=Abraxus Black  
> Harry=Godric   
> I had the idea of them being muggle porn actors making a Harry Potter style porn.

“Scared Black?” Harry asked, shoving him hard against the hard wall of the Great Hall. Draco worried his lower lip, staring down at Harry’s crotch as he pressed down on his growing hard-on with the heel of his palm. Draco swallowed, shaking his head. “Then maybe you should get down on your knees, and suck my cock,” Harry growled. Draco groaned, dropping to his knees before the dark haired man before him, Harry unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard, eleven-inch cock from his trousers and stuffed it into his mouth. Draco moaned around the cock in his mouth. Letting himself be fucked.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” said a voice several feet from them. Harry turned to see a dark-skinned man standing beside them, stroking his cock through his trousers as another blond, this one with golden hair draped himself over the other man.

Harry grinned. “There’s plenty of Abraxus to go around,” he said, pulling Draco off his cock, as the other two men approached. Draco groaned as Harry pressed his face towards the other two cocks. “Fuck, so beautiful,” he purred in his ear, leaning against the wall, and stroking himself, watching as Blaise and Theo kissed, and Draco sucked them off. 

Harry sank to his knees behind Draco, pulling his trousers down around his ankles. Draco moaned, wiggling his arse and earning himself a slap for his trouble. Draco moaned around the two cocks fighting for attention between his lips. Harry growled, and spread his cheeks, spitting on his hole, before fingering his spit into Draco, causing the blond to gasp, and writhe against his finger. Harry looked up at Blaise and Theo still snogging above Draco.

“So hot,” he purred pressing his face into Draco’s hole. Draco groaned. Blaise pulled his cock from Draco’s lips, smacking his chin with his hard cock. Draco hummed.

“Gonna fuck you so hard,” Harry growled into his ear. Draco gasped arching his back as Harry’s cock slid into his arse. Blaise grinned, pulling Theo down to the floor on his hands and knees, and slammed inside him from behind. Draco leaned across the cold floor, pressing his lips to Theo’s. Theo moaned, their tongues battling for dominance as Harry pounded into Draco and Blaise pounded into Theo, the two of them moaning, and writhing against each other.

“CUT!” yelled a loud voice over a loudspeaker. Draco sighed, as Harry stilled his fucking. “Reset the camera’s please,” Draco groaned, he hated this part. Harry pulled out and he got to his feet, the four of them finding their way offset for water and a few snacks between scenes.

“Well, welcome to the SlyStudios team,” Blaise said to Harry with a chuckle.

Harry smirked. “Do all new guys get this reception or am I just special?” he asked.

Draco grinned. “Oh, you’re very special Godric. Very special indeed,” he winked. Harry blushed despite himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I'm not saying I have an answer as to why but I am saying you read it so...


	54. Mrs. Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the Ministry is jealous because Harry's wife always comes to visit him, bringing him treats, among other things. Smut ensues. Trans!Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only written trans!Draco a few times and I've almost never written first person but something about this story required it. It's smutty-esque but not like super smut?

Heads turn as I enter the Ministry, it isn’t the first time people have stared as I entered but I know it’s not because I  _was_ a death eater. It’s because I’m fucking gorgeous. This might sound vain, but believe me, I’m aware of how I look. Currently, in a tight black mini dress, my perfect blonde hair in a high ponytail, carrying a black Birkin bag in one hand and a white picnic basket in the other, my heels echoing in the marble lobby. They could also be staring because I’m married to the Head Auror and savior of the Wizarding World Harry Potter, but I like to think it’s because I’m so damn gorgeous. Harry tends to think so too, and so naturally, he’s incredibly jealous in a way that makes me far more turned on than it should. As I make my way into the lift, several men from other departments excuse themselves, “Sorry Mrs. Potter,” they say. I can’t help but smile. Being married to Harry gives me a certain amount of fear and awe. Half the men and women in the building are jealous of me,  _me a Malfoy no less,_ while the other half live in utter fear of me.

The Aurors are a totally different story. I’m not sure when it first happened, but it’s become a thing now that whoever I enter, the entire department as a whole whistles at me, Aurors stare, both men and women and more often than not I get to overhear how jealous his fellow coworkers are of him because of how often I come down to his work to bring him something special.

If only they knew.

I try to bring him lunch, or some sort of treat. I’ve taught myself how to make treacle tart because I know it’s his favorite and honestly I don’t know why I even bother to pack it because no sooner have I snuck into his office than he has me pinned to his desk, lifting my leg over his shoulder, as he drags my knickers down around my ankles. Another pair I’ll no doubt lose to his growing office pile.

“H-Harry,” I moan. Not even three minutes in the office and I’m already dripping wet for him, and he’s already got his face between my thighs.  _Salazar, I’m addicted to that tongue._ I’m not even sure how Harry’s human with this ability. He almost never comes up for air, and once his face is buried between my legs nothing short of a bomb going off in his office will make him stop. It’s agony and ecstasy what his tongue does to me. My head is dangling off the desk, and my heel is digging into his back, as my body is wracked with shudders. I’ve come more often than not from Harry’s tongue alone and I know he won’t stop until I’m a writhing mess, begging him to fuck me properly before I go. “Oh gods, Harry, yes,” I moan, my fingers clenched in his hair as he devours me. I only vaguely hear the door open, and from my upside down vantage I can only vaguely make out a blushing face at the door.

Harry stops, clearly perturbed. “Get out!” he growls in his gruffest Auror voice that makes my legs tremble, and never fails to make me impossibly wetter. The door shuts and Harry goes back to devouring me as if nothing happened. My legs tremble, I’m not even sure how long it has been but with Harry, it is always both a blissful eternity and not long enough. My fingers fist in his raven locks again, as he tongue fucks me into utter incoherence.

“Harry,” I whine. “Oh, gods, please. Need you so bad.” Harry grins and hums making no move to fuck me properly. I’m so close then and his searching tongue drives me over the edge until I’m screaming his name and coming and my legs are trembling and Harry just licks and sucks his way through it. When at last he pulls away for a brief moment my entire body is trembling and its several minutes before I can even consider standing. Harry merely grins at his handiwork.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” he says. Eventually, I get to my feet and pull down my dress, I don’t even bother with my knickers anymore. Before I leave I lean down to kiss him on the lips.

“Potter,” I say.

“Malfoy,” he growls back. I laugh as I turn on my heel and leave his office. My legs still feel impossibly shaky and I feel so messy and dirty and yet, I love it. On my way out I notice Ron staring at me blushing and I can’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little interested in writing more of this tbh. Thoughts?


	55. Knickers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surely you’re imagining it, was Harry’s first thought, when Draco bent over in potions class to pick up a dropped stirring rod. His second thought was, why would I imagine Draco Malfoy in knickers? His third thought, as Draco sat up, and pulled his shirt down was, why am I hard from possibly imagining Draco Malfoy in knickers? Emerald silk knickers to be precise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty eighth year goodness. Need I say more. Also how did I forget SO many stories on here?

_Surely you’re imagining it,_ was Harry’s first thought, when Draco bent over in potions class to pick up a dropped stirring rod. His second thought was,  _why would I imagine Draco Malfoy in knickers?_ His third thought, as Draco sat up, and pulled his shirt down was,  _why am I hard from possibly imagining Draco Malfoy in knickers? Emerald silk knickers to be precise. The fumes from this potion must be getting to me,_ Harry thought, as he stared at the cauldron in front of him. They were brewing, something Harry could no longer remember, only that it had a pearlescent sheen. Harry swallowed, willing himself not to stare, but no matter what he did, all he could picture was those damn silk knickers. Harry was even more useless in potions than he normally was, much to Draco’s chagrin. In fact, Harry was fairly useless in all of his classes for the rest of the afternoon, and it wasn’t until he realized he’d missed dinner that Harry decided it was time to do something about his most recent Draco Malfoy problem.

The war was over, and McGonagall had been eager to promote inter-house unity with great fanfare and an 8th year only common room. Harry knew Draco shared a dorm with Theo, and he wondered vaguely if he could lure Nott out with, whatever the hell it was he liked so Harry could get an up close and personal look at those knickers. Fortunately for Harry, Nott was in the common room presently, flirting with Blaise, while Draco remained in his own dorm, never one to venture out much. Harry smirked, sneaking up to the dorms and made his way towards the door that had the nameplate Nott-Malfoy above it. Harry knocked twice, a second later, Draco opened the door, wearing only pants that were hung low on his hips, and Harry could see the outer perimeter of those knickers again. He swallowed.

“What can I do for you, Potter?” Draco asked.

“Are you wearing knickers?” Harry asked without thinking. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out but… his brain had gone. Draco glared, dragging Harry into his room and slamming the door behind him, warding it.

“What’s it to you?” Draco demanded.

“N-nothing,” Harry said. “I was just… curious.” Harry was a terrible liar, he only hoped Draco wouldn’t call him out.

Draco raised an eyebrow at that, as if to say,  _really? Is that the best you can do?_  It wasn’t, but fuck if Harry wasn’t too turned on to think properly. “Sorry,” Harry said with a sigh. “It’s just that, I saw them in potions, and now it’s all I can think about and I just really need to see them. Er… please.”

Draco’s face flushed, “Why?”

Harry considered this.  _Why_ did  _he need to see them?_ “Because I’ve been hard since I thought I saw them and it’s all very confusing, but I’m pretty sure I’m going mad, so…please?”

Draco swallowed, “I. Fine,”

“Really?” Harry couldn’t believe his luck. He was beginning to wonder if he’d taken Felix Felicis sometime in the past few hours, but he realized he didn’t really care because Draco had begun to unbutton his trousers, and Harry felt his heart beating faster as Draco let the trousers fall to reveal a pair of emerald silk knickers, with a lace trim. Harry stared. “Fuck. That’s… so fucking hot,” he admitted. Draco blushed and Harry crossed the room in two strides. “I… listen, I know we’re not… erm…what I mean is,” Draco pressed their lips together shutting Harry up. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and let them slide down to cup Draco’s silk-clad arse. Harry moaned into his mouth. It felt incredible, and he wanted nothing more than to shove Draco up against the nearest object and rip these knickers from his body. “I really want,”  _gods, Harry wasn’t even sure how to voice what he wanted just then._

“Anything,” Draco said, breathlessly. Harry groaned, dropping to his knees, and flipped Draco around, shoving him face first on the bed as he pressed his face into Draco’s silk-clad arse. Draco moaned into his pillow as Harry pulled down the knickers, roughly.

“Fuck, Draco. Your arse is so beautiful,” he said reverently. Draco moaned, bucking back toward’s Harry’s face. Harry shuddered, pulling the knickers down to his thighs before he kissed the base of Draco’s back. Draco moaned. Grinning, Harry did it again, then, spreading Draco’s arse Harry buried his face in between his arse cheeks, shoving his tongue in Draco’s tight hole, dragging a moan from the blond above him.

“Oh Harry,” he hissed. “Fuck.” Harry growled, doubling his efforts, stabbing his tongue deep inside the blond, in an effort to drive him wild with desire. Draco whimpered, as Harry continued to devour his arse. “Oh, gods. P-please, Harry,” he moaned.

“So hot when you say my name,” Harry growled against his arse.

“Oh fuck.”

“How are you so impossibly hot?” he asked. “Not fair. Just wanna keep you in my bed so I can fuck and rim you for a week.”

Draco groaned, bucking back into Harry’s face. “Yes. Do it,” Draco growled. “Tie me up, fuck me, whatever you want just keep eating my arse,” he shuddered.

“Oh right sorry,” Harry said, going back to work. Draco screamed.

“Oh gods, right there. Oh fuck. Please, Harry, make me come, I need it so bad.” Harry hummed around his hole, “Oh yes. Oh, fuck do that again.” Harry grinned, doing as he was told and hummed against Draco’s hole. “Oh yes. Yes… mmm, Harry,” Draco moaned. Harry grinned, sucking hard on Draco’s rim. Draco screamed, coming hard across the bed as Harry continued eating his arse.

“Wanna make you come again from my tongue,” Harry growled.

“Ooh shit,” Draco gasped.

“Taste so good.” Draco whimpered. “Gonna buy you so many knickers.” Draco groaned, nodding, his legs shaking violently as Harry continued to eat his arse.


	56. Size Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an ask for Hung! Harry and Size Queen! Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never let it be said I don't have a theme to my writing.   
> Smut.

Draco Malfoy was in heaven, or perhaps it was hell, it was hard to tell which, mostly because he was staring at a very naked Harry Potter in the Quidditch locker room. Apparently, the benefit of  _inter-house unity_ and eighth year was that all the houses had pretty much combined due to a lack of returning students which meant that Draco now shared a locker room with one Harry James Potter and his obscenely large cock. He hadn’t meant to stare, but really, Potter had just dropped his towel and slung it over his shoulder in the middle of a conversation with one of his old Gryffindor mates like it was nothing and how was Draco supposed to  _not_ stare. He was only human after all, and a bottom at that. A bottom who lusted for big cocks. In his mouth, in his arse,  in his hands. Everywhere he could get them, Draco wanted them. Thus far the biggest cock Draco had taken was from a Ravenclaw whose name Draco didn’t remember who he was pretty sure was about eight and a half inches, or so he’d said. But Harry, not even hard, and already a considerable amount down his thigh had to be somewhere around 9 or 10 inches. The very thought made Draco hard and his mouth flood with saliva, and his arsehole quiver of its own accord. Every part of him wanted Harry. Wanted to drop to his knees and worship the boy who lived like so many of his sycophants, and devour every last drop of his previous come.

Draco had never been so thirsty in all his life, and Harry Potter’s cock was like an endless fountain of every drink he could possibly want. The problem, of course, was getting Potter alone, and finding out if he would be amenable. Surely Harry could  _have_  anyone, but he would not find anyone else as talented as Draco. Draco had gone to great lengths to ensure his oral skills were exceptional. A cut above the rest. He prided himself on being one for whom several men had entirely forgotten both where they were, and temporarily how to form coherent sentences for several seconds after coming down his throat. Draco was very proud to say he had drawn screaming orgasms out of even the quietest and prudish of men.

Little by little the Quidditch herd thinned till it was only Draco and Harry still left in the locker rooms. Harry was still naked, though he’d made no move to head to the showers, instead, spending the last fifteen or so minutes, his legs spread obscenely wide as he polished his broom, and oh how Draco would have loved to be in between Harry’s thick muscular thighs just then. There was nothing for it. Draco would have to resort to his own tactics if he wanted to get Potter’s attention. Pulling out the ponytail he’d had in his hair, Draco let his long, platinum blond hair flow freely around his shoulders, and let his robe drop to the floor, before he had sauntered past Harry, his hips swaying as he made his way toward the showers. This would be the test Draco thought, few men could resist Draco’s perfect arse as it swayed naked before them. Turning on the water, Draco stepped under the stream and waited. It would only be a matter of time before… Draco grinned as he heard the footsteps from behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to  _know_ it was Harry. He could smell his sweat from here and  _gods_ if that wasn’t its own turn on. Draco felt his cock harden but he refused to turn. Harry would come to him. Draco closed his eyes, ducking his head back to the water when he felt warm arms wrap around him, and a half hard cock poking in his lower back. Draco grinned.

_Took you long enough,_ Draco thought but didn’t dare say. Turning around, he stared into the lust blown eyes of Harry Potter. “Fuck your arse looks so hot,” Harry said. Draco grinned.  _I know,_ he wanted to say.

“So’s your cock. I’ve been dying to drop to my knees and suck it,” he purred.

Harry swallowed, staring at Draco’s lips.

“Sure you can handle it?”

Draco grinned, dropping to his knees before Harry, coming face to face with that beautiful thick cock. Draco felt his mouth water, as he stared at the drop of pre-come at the head, it was even bigger than it had been before. Long, and thick, and so veiny. Then there was the thick thatch of black hair at the base of his cock that Draco wanted nothing more than to bury his nose in. “Seem’s the golden boy has a golden cock too,” Draco said as he took Harry’s cock in his hand and began to stroke it. Harry moaned from above him, placing his hand on the back of Draco’s head, pushing his face into his cock. Draco moaned, wrapping his lips around it. It was even more magical than he’d hoped for. The feel of Harry’s warm thick cock sitting on his tongue, within seconds Harry was fucking wildly into Draco’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Draco gagged but refused to be deterred. He had longed to choke on Harry’s cock, to have it stuffed down his throat until he could barely breathe.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry moaned from above him, fucking his mouth hard and fast. Draco swirled his tongue around the head, working to take as much of Harry in his mouth as he could manage. Harry growled, and that was a new sound to elicit from a man, but oh how Draco loved it. Swallowing around the length in his mouth, Draco added a hand, determined to make Harry come down his throat. “Fuck, you’re so good at that. So fucking hard baby,” Harry purred.

Draco hummed around his length and felt a shudder go up Harry’s body for his trouble. Draco grinned, doing it again, over and over, humming as he sucked, and played with the head. “Shit, Draco. Fuck, if you keep that up I’m gonna come in your mouth,” Harry gasped, breathlessly.

“Mmm,” Draco hummed. He would have begged if he could. If Harry had been a legillimens, he would have heard Draco screaming, begging for him to come down his throat. To let Draco swallow every last drop of his sweet load. Gods how he wanted it. Harry could paint his entire face with his come and Draco would have been happy, he just wanted it everywhere. Doubling his speed and his efforts, Draco devoured Harry’s cock more, Harry shuddered, and Draco suspected his legs might give out soon. Holding him steady, Draco sucked and sucked until finally.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck… Draco… fuck…I’m gonna,” Draco hummed contentedly as Harry’s thick load hit the back of his throat. Swallowing as fast as he could manage. Gods it was even hotter than he’d expected. Harry shuddered from above him, his legs shaking dangerously. Draco waved his hand, he’d gotten rather good at wandless cushioning spells with good reason, just as Harry fell on his arse. “Fuck, that… fuck,” Harry said. Draco grinned.

“Just wait till you pound my arse,” he purred, crawling over to Harry to kiss him on the lips. Harry moaned, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist.

“I may need an hour or something, that was. Holy shit that was intense.”

Draco grinned.  _You’re welcome,_ he thought but did not say. Really he should be thanking Harry, he thought. 


	57. Quidditch Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco doesn't like to be ignored for a Quidditch match, so he crawls into Harry's lap instead. Smut ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I missed a LOT of Tumblr drabbles. Sorry guys.

Draco grinned, crawling into Harry’s lap on their couch. He’d been trying to watch the Quidditch World Cup on the telly and Draco was tired of being ignored.

“Babe,” Harry said, instinctively grabbing hold of Draco’s arse even as he tried to look around the blond to see the telly. Draco pulled his wand out of his back pocket and pointed it at the television, freezing the picture in place, before turning back to Harry then, grinding his arse on Harry’s already tenting erection. Harry moaned.

“How can you resist your beautiful, fabulous boyfriend for a Quidditch match?” Draco purred, rubbing his arse teasingly over Harry’s hardening cock. Harry growled. “Mmm, you want this arse? I took the liberty of prepping myself nice and good for you. I was so bored today while you were at work, that all I could do was think about you while I shoved a big thick…” but before Draco could finish his sentence Harry had pounced. Shoving Draco back onto the floor, pinning his arms above his head, growling in the blond’s ear and sucking hard on his throat.

“You’re an impossible tease Draco,” Harry hissed.

“Yes,” Draco replied breathlessly. He  _loved_ this side of Harry. The seemingly unhinged dominant Auror, pinning Draco against hard surfaces, stripping off his clothes with little regard to expensive fabrics and fucking him into oblivion. It was almost as delicious as when Harry would tease him, making Draco writhe on the bed as Harry kept him on the precipice of orgasm, holding him there again and again but never letting him come until  _he_ said so.

“So impatient,” Harry growled, ripping open Draco’s shirt with his free hand, and tearing open Draco’s trousers, slipping his fingers past his hard, dripping cock down to his eagerly awaiting to be filled hole, slipping his fingers inside. Draco moaned, spreading his legs for Harry to give him better access. Harry waved a hand casting a wandless incarcerous on Draco’s arms above his head before he flipped the blond onto his stomach, tearing down his pants, and landing a hard slap across the soft pale globes of his arse. Draco gasped. “Such a tease. You know I  _really_ should punish you, and  _not_ fuck you. Just let you sit here, with your hole empty.” Draco whined, writhing against the ground.

“Please Harry, I’ll be good,” he begged. Harry offered him a smack to his arse again, Draco whimpered, bucking into the touch.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” Harry sighed, gripping Draco’s blond hair tight in his hands, smacking his arse hard again, letting his fingers dip into Draco’s hole, with light, shallow thrusts that made Draco whine, begging incoherently into the carpet for Harry to fuck him. Harry smiled, letting his fingers dip slightly deeper into Draco’s hole. “I’m in charge here, and don’t you forget it,” he hissed.

“Yes, Harry, fuck, please.”

Harry leaned down, pressing his lips to Draco’s spine, letting his fingers slip all the way into Draco then, curling them to hit his prostate, Draco let out a strangled scream. “So hot,” he purred. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

“Yes, gods, please, Harry,” Draco moaned as Harry removed his fingers and finally sank all the way into Draco then. Harry held still inside of his boyfriend. Draco whimpered and Harry slowly pulled out, before slamming back into the blond. Draco screamed. Harry did it again, over, and over, again. Slowly dragging the blond closer and closer towards his orgasm, never fully letting him have it.

It was beautiful to see Draco unraveling like this, the way only Harry could take him apart so beautifully. Draco was a masterpiece, and Harry couldn’t help but love him. 


	58. Draco's Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in our world will know his name.
> 
> Draco Malfoy had grown up with stories of Harry Potter, and from the time he was five years old, Draco had proudly told anyone who would listen that he would be Harry’s best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and angst

_Everyone in our world will know his name._

Draco Malfoy had grown up with stories of Harry Potter, and from the time he was five years old, Draco had proudly told anyone who would listen that he would be Harry’s  _best_ friend.

“Of course you will darling,” his mother would say, patting her son’s hair as Draco excitedly asked his mother to relay the story about Harry Potter to him again. It was his favorite bedtime story, much to Lucius Malfoy’s chagrin.

“It’s not as if  _he’s_ coming back,” Narcissa had hissed at her husband on more than one occasion. “Surely it couldn’t hurt to indulge our son in his little adoration.”

“It’s unbecoming a Malfoy,” Lucius had hissed. “This little crush.”

Narcissa laughed. “He’s five Lucius, he’s only claimed to want to be the boy’s friend. You act as though he plans to marry Potter.”

“Don’t be so naive Cissa, you know as well as I do our son is…” Lucius trailed off.

“Whatever he is, we will love him all the same,” Narcissa said. Lucius exhaled a breath and left the room. Whatever Lucius thought, Narcissa was  _not_ naive, she knew what Lucius suspected of their son, but she also knew that she would love him no matter whom he grew to love.

“Mother?” Draco asked as he lay in bed one night, after hearing the story. Narcissa smiled at her son.

“Yes, my love?”

“Do you really think Harry will like me?”

“Why ever would he not?” Narcissa asked. Draco frowned.

“What if I’m not like other boys? What if I like-like him?” Draco asked.

Narcissa felt her heartbreak for her son then. She leaned down kissing her son’s forehead. “I cannot promise he will like you back my love, but I believe that he will like you for you all the same.” Draco smiled up at his mother and Narcissa turned off his light. “Good night my love,” she said tucking him in. Narcissa stood and made her way out of his room, closing the door behind her with a sigh.

She knew it was a childhood crush, that Draco would grow out of, but the thought of telling her son that he should  _not_ tell others his feelings, lest they judge him filled her heart with sadness.

* * *

Six years later, and Draco’s crush had only grown.  _Today’s the day,_ Draco thought as he prepared to board the Hogwarts Express. Today, he would become Harry’s friend.


	59. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry are having a torrid affair but someone is watching them... who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on a wonderful art piece by Ano-ka-ba.

It’s torrid and tawdry, and Draco loves every minute of it. It feels illicit, this thing he has going with Potter as Auror training recruits. It feels forbidden and dangerous and perhaps that’s what Draco likes about it the most, the realization that at any moment he could be caught in Harry Potter’s bed. Pinned down against the mattress, up against the door, or as he is now, his head thrown back as he rides Harry’s cock in sheer ecstasy, in Harry’s bed. The door to their shared room is ajar, only adding to the danger of their sexual escapade. One of Harry’s hands grips Draco’s thigh as the other one hold’s his back, as Draco rides him. Harry matches him thrust for thrust, his cock slamming into Draco’s prostate with every push upward, determined to drive Draco wild, to make him come. Harry always works to make sure Draco comes first, there’s something about watching the blond come completely undone for him that makes Harry always lose it shortly after. He’s not sure he can come without seeing Draco come first, the feel of Draco’s tight channel clenching around him as his orgasm rips through him is like a drug, and Harry can never, ever have enough.

It's only a matter of time before the secret gets out, its long been a rumor that the Auror partners are not so secretly sneaking away to shag, and yet, Harry and Draco _cling_ to the possibility that their secret remains as it has been. Secret. Harry groans Draco’s name, fucking him desperately. He’s close. _So close,_ and his desire to drag Draco over the edge first burns through him like a hot match.

“Come for me Draco,” he growls. Draco moans loudly, and does as he’s told, painting Harry’s chest with a stripe of hot come, his arse clenching around Harry’s cock. Harry angles his hips so he fucks deeper, and deeper, and comes deep inside the blond.

Neither of them seeing the prying eyes of Draco’s fiancée Astoria Greengrass as she stands on the other side of the door. She’d meant to surprise him, and here _she_ was the one surprised. Less by the affair, for Astoria, had known her fiancé was gay, but more by the person itself, and the reaction it seemed to cause within her to watch them. Astoria blushed, as she caught Harry’s eye. It was all she could do not to gasp, as the dark haired man watched her, as he leaned down, and bit Draco’s neck hard, sucking the flesh between his lips. Astoria shuddered, feeling more wet than she had felt in her entire life up till then. It was then, as she watched Harry claim her soon-to-be husband that an idea struck the witch, and she could go through with the marriage, under the condition she was allowed to watch Harry fuck her husband. Astoria shuddered at the thought, she felt like a freak, something was definitely wrong with her she conceded and yet, she could neat seem to tear her eyes away from the way Harry’s cock filled Draco’s arse. The way he held onto Draco as though he were something precious. The way Draco clung to him in turn. They were _made_ for each other, and _gods_ were they hot together. Harry thrust into Draco for show, and Astoria clasped her hand to her mouth to cover her own moan at the sight.


End file.
